


The Rubicon

by Scribe32oz



Series: Seven Scrolls [29]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, Discussion of Abortion, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Novella, Rape/Non-con Elements, Series, Sieges, Suicide Attempt, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-14 22:56:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 93,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13017924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe32oz/pseuds/Scribe32oz
Summary: There's trouble in the Territory as sentiments of deep resentment by native Indian tribes, long dissatisfied by their treatment at the hands of the White Man threaten to reach flash point. Behind the scenes and old enemy is pulling strings unseen with thoughts of vengeance against the seven. In particular, Ezra Standish.....Warning: Contains elements of Male Rape.





	1. The New World Order

**Author's Note:**

> Please note, this story contains a graphic depiction of male rape. I will mark the section before we get to it.

 

 

In an age where war left a bitter aftertaste in bodies and horror, men were less eager to find a cause in which they could risk their lives for glory and bravery. The last war still lingered fresh and unpleasantly in their minds. The war of the states as it was known now but was fast being termed in schoolbooks as the American Civil War had left a scar upon the minds of many. Almost sixteen years after its end, the memory of all that carnage remained like a nightmare one wakes up from in the morning, leaving impressions of disbelief that it had actually happened in reality and created such organised destruction on so national a scale. Its results had clearly marked the country by the scores of southern plantations now owned by northern carpetbaggers, the slow restoration of the South and finally but most prolifically, the new under class that had been created in the wake of the Emancipation Act. 

Across the land of the free, a new dissent was on the rise, slowly and surely under the burgeoning economic growth that came in post-war restoration. They came from across the sea to build railways and find fortune, only to learn that they were considered by the colonial masters of this land as barely human. They appeared as free men, eager to take their place in a free world only to learn that freedom and tolerance were two different things and to have one was worthless without the other. They also came from old traditions, steeped in ideas of how things ought to be and had bled and fought hard to preserve that way, only to learn in defeat that they had to accept the conditions of the victors. Some did not come from anywhere but had rather always been. They lived in symbiosis with the land for as long as they existed until the new arrivals came and began pushing them from what was always theirs. The voices were many and they were different, in creed, colour and doctrine. Not one could look at eac h other and say that they were brothers but were nonetheless bound together by their passionate hatred.

Hannibal Alexander Julius saw that as an untapped resource, almost like the black gold that lay under the soil of most of the Americas, undiscovered and waiting its time. He too, had a voice with grievances of his own but his was not to join the masses that made the others but rather to lead them to their own respective promise land. He knew this from the day he had born and those who had sired him, fed the belief until it became obsession that was ingrained in every part of his persona. He was born to one of the most illustrious military families, with a father who had died at Mexico and mother who thought him to be the master of her world and raised him under the belief that everyone else ought to think so as well. Thus the road to greatness was paved with successes and defeats and when the great war of the states had come, Hannibal had been eager to count himself as one of its most able commanders.

His victories in the battlefield had come at a price. Of course, it was one that he was most willing to pay because he was a military genius and any great commander understood that no victory could be completely bloodless. Wars were fought so that men died and by their deaths, upheld the cause for which they were willing to lay their lives. In his war, Julius understood this all too well and was willing to sacrifice his men for the greater good, believing without doubt that they understood that this was the nature of warfare and their sacrifice would not be in vain. He saw many faces come and go. They joined eager to defend the rights of the Union and died with the uncertainty of whether or not so much blood ought to be shed for any ideal.

For Julius, it mattered little to him whether the Union had to be preserved. He had no particular interest in whether or not Negro slaves should be free or not. His only concern was the battle and his coming elevation to godhood in the conflict that allowed him to prove his prowess on the field. During the four years of his commission, he had the highest casualty rate of any commander in the Union Army. However, his battles were almost always won and so he remained, secretly admired by his enemies. As the Union onslaught continued towards the South, Julius began to consider what came next after the war was done being fought. He expected a promotion to at least Colonel, although in his opinion, his victories earned him the rank of General.

It would have been that way if it were not for one incident that changed everything.

The lieutenant was trouble the moment Julius came across him. The young man heralded from fine military pedigree. His father was a general and a hero, spoken of in hushed tones by those who knew of him and heard the stories of his valour. The young man who joined his platoon was nothing like that. He was infantry, given a battlefield commission that saw him become a lieutenant. He watched Julius and said little but behind those penetrating blue green eyes, Julius immediately sensed the enemy. When the young man chose to spoke, he opposed almost all of Julius strategies in the field. He had even dared to call his commander a murderer.

 

In the last days of the war, they had been forced to take a hill and Julius was determined not to stain his record with even one failure. The men understood this and were determined to see his dream realised but the lieutenant had secretly connived and schemed behind his back. Taking command of his platoon, the usurper had stolen his victory from him and taken the hill. Julius was not about to let anyone take what was his and reacted accordingly. What he had done should have been recognised in any military court as the appropriate action for an act of mutiny. Unfortunately, the lieutenant had friends and a powerful father who saw to it that what Julius had done was not punishment but rather vengeance.

For such a crime, they locked him away. They locked him away like he was a common criminal. They strove to hide the star of his destiny inside a cold, dank military cell and brand him with the appellation of murderer even though his victim had survived and had been promoted for his act of deceit. A normal man would have accepted his fate and allowed himself to be beaten by the government he had wished to service with his greatness. However, Julius was better than that. Despite his connections, Julius was unable to extricate himself from his situation but was able to improve his position in it. Monthly stipend paid to guards ensured that he was treated well and the requirements necessary to one of his station was made readily available to him, smuggled in by another well paid lackey on staff.

For almost a decade, the incarceration of Hannibal Julius continued until those who mattered began to forget that he even existed. Once he became someone who was just another number, Julius made his move. Payment of substantial amounts made to certain guards saw him liberated from his prison. His escape and that of his associate, Mr Bellison hardly raised much of an eye when it took place and after the obligatory search, Julius found that he had slipped from the minds of those who found his entire escape an embarrassment. With his newfound freedom, Julius had no intention of forgetting the destiny that had been abruptly interrupted thanks to the deceit of one man. Instead, Julius used the knowledge acquired from those years trapped in the dark to make new plans.

He needed a new army. One who would serve only one master.

He knew where to find them. During his incarceration where there was little to do but pass the time as the world went by, he had listen to the voices trapped with him. He listened to their anger and their causes, their petty hatreds and their dreams of something better. There were so many of them diverse in their dislike but united by their passion for it. Julius realised that these were the soldiers of his new army. All he had to do to gain their unswerving loyalty was a promise of giving them all what they wanted when he was done with his grandiose plan. Charisma had always been his gift and when spoken in places devoid of hope, its effect was great. They believed him. They believed that when it was all said and done, they would have their own patch of paradise, each one of them. 

He called his new army, the Citadel. 

With Bellison at his side, Julius made up for the lost time spent in prison. He had a fortune in a family inheritance still at his disposal and he began his recruitment, speaking often in secret places in the dead of night. Most who heard him were pliable already and were eager to join. Those who did not knew better than to speak of what they heard. The dead bodies of those who did not keep their silence were plentiful. Julius was no fool. He knew that uniting such disaffected groups would raise concerns and thus he conducted his business covertly, away from the ken of those who might harm his fledgling movement. 

The organisation grew exponentially. Its true numbers were a closely guarded secret, privy to Bellison and himself only. Julius was not surprised when recruits began seeking him out. Some were foot soldiers but others were cogs in vital systems in government, able to offer information that proved extremely useful to him and his strategic planning. His dream was nothing less than the dissolution of these United States, to break it up into a thousand pieces in order to portion it out to those he thought deserving while he sat in authority over them all. His power base grew and finally, he sought to make his move by attacking a part of the country that was starting to gain prominence.  

The West was opening up and with new settlers and new opportunities arising, it did not serve Julius purpose for it to become commercially viable and he needed a chilling demonstration of power. It was through sheer bad luck that his first venture took place in the Territory, in particular near a collection of New Mexican towns. Vengeance was never on his agenda but when Julius discovered whom had captured a vital store of nitro he had planned for grander use, Julius wondered if his star was not demanding that he take care of unfinished business. 

The lieutenant that had ruined his military career, Chris Larabee was now a lawman in the Territory. In all honesty, Julius still had no desires for vengeance even after he took Larabee’s wife hostage. He had taught himself to think past such petty needs. Julius was not a vengeful man. He shed blood out of necessity and the kidnapping of Larabee’s wife would keep the lawman’s attention out of his business until everything was ready to proceed. It should have worked and would have if not one random element that had the power to bring the entire edifice of his machinations down in fiery conflagration.

A wild card named Ezra Standish.  

Ezra Standish had played him well. In retrospect, Julius supposed it was partly his own fault. He had found the smooth talking, southern gambler attractive. Unfortunately, hidden under all that charm was an idealist who believed in traditional justice for all and had sworn allegiance to the hated enemy, Larabee. For Julius, who often thought women to be too frivolous to understand what genius he had, men like Standish were rare. Julius had allowed him into the organisation, had shown him secrets, expecting to feel fully reciprocated for his trust with affection and heat but instead had been tricked into exposing his plan with nothing more than one passionate kiss. Julius could not deny the man was amazing even though it was obvious later on that his inclination was only for the ladies. Still Julius wondered what he would be like if shown a different expression of love making. 

He wondered about it a great deal. 

Ezra Standish became his obsession albeit one he kept a good reign on. He wanted the man, knew that there was unfinished business between them that would see Standish his one day but he would not jeopardise himself again by ever believing that Standish would see him as anything but the enemy. Thus he kept his plans for Standish and the Citadel separate. When the time came, he would use one to the other’s advantage but for the time being he watched. He placed agents in Standish’ midst and learnt all he could about the object of his desire. He was correct about Standish’ true inclinations. Apparently the man had been attached for some time to a fiery beauty named Julia Pemberton, a creature of refinement very much suited for a southern gentlemen of Standish’ ilk. His agents attempt to shatter the relationship told Julius just how strong it was when it endured.  

He considered taking Julia but decided that he was done with stealing women after the disastrous kidnapping of Mary Larabee. Besides, when he took Standish, it would be without the coercion over a woman’s safety. He had his seduction of Standish all played out in his head, the question of the moment, was when he would put it into effect. 

However, the time was drawing close because he had a new plan. His agents were in place. His work of past months had come to fruition and his pawns were at the place he had spent months bringing them to. The Territory was once again the beachhead for his new order, the stepping stone from which he would roll the dice and watch his star rise.  

Like Caesar before him, who had crossed the Rubicon with his army and captured the entire Roman world in the palm of his hand, Hannibal Alexander Julius would ignite the Territory and watch the rest of America burn. 

 

 


	2. The Changing World

 

People were talking about statehood again.

There were voices for the change and there were voices against it. It was the way of things when something new appeared on the horizon. It had been this way perhaps since the world had begun. Chris Larabee did not allow himself to get involve with the changing direction of the wind because by his reckoning, things that needed changing often did because they were a force of nature on their own, requiring little help from loud voices. Chris believed that statehood would come when folks knew in their own minds that it was needed, not because some politician was screaming that it should be or should not. Although his wife was one of the strongest advocates for the Territory to become a state, Chris made it clear that while he supported her in her endeavours, he had no particular opinion and would not appreciate having to make one.

His job was to protect the town and ensure that the parties against and for did not cause trouble for those who really did not give a damn either way. Unlike the previous drive for statehood, there was no Territorial Governor making his arrival in town on wings of glory. This time it was just talk. Eagle Bend was the central seat of such discussions and like wild fire, the rhetoric of both sides drifted to Four Corners and people started talking about what it would mean to them. Mary had published some articles in the Clarion News, explaining her advocacy but at the same time, expressing succinctly and with as much impartiality as she could manage, the views of those against. Chris admired her for that and loved her for that ability to see two sides of a coin, even though she had clear preferences for one.

Four Corners at this point of time was growing steadily but not so rapidly that Chris would find himself uncomfortable about the influx of too many people. Mostly, the settlers came out to homestead while others built business in correspondence with the railroad but essentially Four Corners remained the same. Yosemite still ran the livery and Gloria Potter still had her store. The hotel was still being run by the German who had paid Maude Standish more money that he ought to have for the establishment and there were still enough saloons in town to keep a former gunslinger like himself happy. The town had grown a little in size but it was the same dust blown place that he had drifted into three years ago and though he expected it would not always remain the same, Chris was grateful for that.

On this particular day, he had opted to remain in town. The talk about statehood was becoming a little more fiery than he would like with more than a few occasions where he and the rest of the seven had been required to break up more animated ‘discussions’ with a night in jail. This precipitated Chris’ decision that some of these political gathering would perhaps run a little smoother if it was not done so in the locality of any alcohol. Even the most indifferent man on the street would become a passionate debater on the subject when he had more than enough shots of whisky running through his veins.

Chris sat outside the jailhouse, watching the small group of men talking across the street, barely listening to the words but rather the mood of the gathering. So far, it was nothing that ought to give him worry and the lawman went back to his reading. Next to him, Vin Tanner and Ezra Standish were playing checkers and the soft click of chips against the board could be heard on the edge of his mind. Buck was presently at the Lucky Seven ranch, checking on the horses and taking of the general house keeping that was required of the place. Business was doing quite well and providing Chris and his partners a little more than the dollar a day they were earning as town protectors. JD and Nathan were out patrolling while Josiah was taking one of his sabbaticals at the Indian Reserve to drop in on Kojay, the tribe’s elderly chief.  

He returned his gaze to his book again, once it did not appear as if the crowd would get rowdy. Judging from the tone of the debates, the matter was still unresolved for those present and some were downright unconvinced that it was necessary to change things from what they were. Chris tended to agree but he was not about to tell Mary that. Their marriage was fiery enough without bringing the added spice of opposing political views into the arena.

"Are they still going on with that tiresome discussion?" Ezra Standish asked, glancing in the direction of the group gathered outside Gloria Potter’s store.

"I guess its important to some." Vin drawled and moved his red piece on the table. "Your move."

"I myself cannot see the difference." Ezra sighed making his move without looking at the board. "It seems that something will be lost either way." 

"It will happen when the time is right." Chris remarked closing his book and turning his attention to his friends. 

"This crowd does not look like the patient type." Ezra retorted. "There is nothing more debilitating to a good conversation than the topics of politics and religion. It’s a good thing I dabble in neither." 

"Really?" Vin looked up.

"Swear to God." Ezra grinned and drew a soft chuckle from both Vin and Chris. "Although I did once play a preaching man." 

"Now that’s a performance." Chris gave him a look. 

"I’ll have you know Mr Larabee, I was quite convincing before they ran me out of town." Ezra replied, his gold tooth gleaming with as much mischief as the glint in his eye.

"If you were so convincing why did they run you out of town?" Vin asked. 

"I attempted to convert the mayor’s daughter."

"That does tend to kill the faith in your piety." Chris shook his head, wondering how the gambler ever kept from getting himself tarred and feather in his con man days.  

"Yeah, you do get into trouble when it comes to women." Vin taunted as his eye shifted forward to the other side of the street.

Ezra and Chris followed his gaze and saw the tracker was staring in the direction of Diana Belladonna who was waving at Ezra once she saw him looking. The sultry beauty glided down the sidewalk, her dark hair piled on top of her head and was dressed in a low cut blue gown that gave ample view of her assets. Ezra turned his eyes away as soon as she made eye contact, having no desire to give the lady any more encouragement than necessary. As it was, he was happy enough that she was no longer visiting him frequently at the jailhouse much to the amusement of his associates. He had told her in no uncertain terms where his affections lay but something told Ezra that she was feigning understanding at the moment but was not at all convinced of that being the truth. 

Whatever her belief, Ezra was not about to ponder it to deeply. Miss Belladonna had seriously jeopardized his relationship with Julia and Ezra was not about to forget that or allow her to be in a position for a repeat performance. Besides, he was accustomed to deceptive females and being able to see past facades and something about Diana told him that she was a creature of masks. After the incident with Diana where she had kissed him unwillingly in front of Julia, he had time to consider her actions since arriving in Four Corners and knew inwardly without having any evidence to prove it that she wanted something of him. If it were not for the fact that Julia would not take kindly to it, Ezra would have even considered expending some time finding out exactly what it was she was trying to gain but for unfortunately, circumstances had made that course of action impossible.

"That my friends," Ezra answered, keeping his gaze averted from Diana. "Is a no man's land I have no desire to cross again. She gives me an unpleasant feeling beneath the skin that is more than just her interference in my affairs with Julia."

"Can't say I blame you." Vin agreed, seeing the same kind of duality in Miss Belladonna's behavior. "Lady ain't what she claims to be." 

Chris took a closer look as Diana sashayed by once her wave to Ezra had been ignored. She continued up the street and wondered why a successful performer would indenture herself to such a rustic setting. It did not make any sense. "Maybe we ought to see what Mary can dig up on her." He replied, completely on guard about the woman now that the suspicion had been planted in his head.  

"I would appreciate it." Ezra found himself saying gratefully. The time was long past when Chris Larabee did anything but trust him explicitly and if he had a bad feeling about Diana, then the gunslinger was sure to pay it the credence it deserve.

"In the mean time however," Chris turned his gaze upon him and said with a little smile. "Try and stay out of trouble. Your animal magnetism is almost as bad as Buck's." 

************

Casey Well twisted the knob on Alexandra Tanner's door at the same time that Ezra, Chris and Vin were having their conversation. The young woman looked around apprehensively, wondering why she was so afraid of being seen entering the doctor's office when it was not the first time she had visited the premises. Still she felt jittery and knew she had good cause to be afraid, even though at the moment the possibility looming in the periphery of her mind was almost unimaginable. She had waited until JD and Nathan was out on patrol before coming here. Even though she popped into see Alex all the time, her visit today was anything but social. She had told Aunt Nettie that she had asked by the lady doctor to lend a hand at the clinic today and Nettie who knew how close they were, saw nothing unusual about that. 

The bell above the door, sounded noisily as she entered and Casey was suddenly gripped with the fear of what would happen if Alex had a patient with her. It was the afternoon and such an occurrence would not be beyond the realms of possibility. Casey walked quietly into the hallway and precipitated Alex's emergence from her office.  

"Casey!" Alex exclaimed with a smile. "What a nice surprise. I'm just going up to get some tea, join me?"

 Casey nodded mutely, offering an uneasy smile that immediately put Alex on her guard. They proceeded upstairs to the residential part of the building that Alex shared with Vin Tanner. Casey said little as they went to the kitchen and Alex began brewing tea. The young girl sat the table, her hands hidden and she seemed to shift periodically as if she had something to say but did not know how to put. Alex let Casey take her time, aware that since her ordeal at the hands of Neil Blackwood almost six weeks ago; the young girl was in a fragile state of mind. The entire incident had been silenced by the seven and those in their sphere to spare the girl any humiliation while Blackwood himself had been run out of town.

When Alex served her a cup of teeth and sat down to one herself, the doctor waited for a few seconds for Casey to speak, feeling her heart go out to the girl because there was so much fear in her eyes. She wanted to break down and cry Alex was certain but was remaining strong, as only Casey could be. She was a remarkable young woman, Alex thought, so decidedly female and yet unafraid of getting her hands dirty in doing what needed to be done, even when the task was meant strictly for men. She had too much courage for Alex to stand seeing her this way.

 "Casey," Alex asked finally. "What is wrong?" 

Casey stared at her, eyes brimming with tears, a swell of sorrow that soon spilled onto her cheeks and ran down her face in torrents of despair. "I can't even say it." 

Alex held her breath. "Try." She coaxed gently, her hand reaching across the table and grazing Casey's just enough to know that there was nothing so terrible that she could not speak it aloud to Alex. 

"I'm never late." She stammered. "Not since I became a woman."  

Alex blinked slowly; wishing it had been anything but that. "How late are you?" She asked, not meeting Casey's eyes when the question left her.

"Two weeks." Casey answered. "I ain't never been late before." 

"We ought to make sure." Alex hardened herself inwardly; reminding herself that this was a patient who needed her doctor's best performance, not her sympathetic friend. "I'll conduct a few tests." 

"I know its true!" Casey blurted out, starting to cry harder. 

"Casey, Casey," Alex rounded the table and tried to stem her fears from spiraling out of control but truthfully, Casey had every right to feel terrified. "Its okay. We'll figure this out."

"No it's not okay!" Casey pushed her hands away as Alex tried to hold her. "Its not! I ain't been with JD since Aunt Nettie caught us! I promised her that we wouldn't until we were married!"

Alex's face melted into complete understanding and she felt her own tears filling up her eyes. "Oh Casey," she managed to say as the girl broke down. "I am so sorry."

"I can't tell JD!" She exploded in near hysteria. "I can't tell him that its not his!"

There was no need for her to elaborate on whose child it was because Alex knew it could only be Neil Blackwood's.  

Neil Blackwood had arrived in town nearly two months ago with the startling revelation that he was JD Dunne's father. The truth, now buried forever with Elizabeth Dunne, JD's mother and unlikely to be clarified by Blackwood himself, had emerged long enough for JD to realise irrevocably that Blackwood was indeed his father. Unfortunately, Blackwood was nothing like his idealistic son and subsequent investigations by Mary Travis uncovered the unpleasant truth that Blackwood was a gangster in Chicago not to mention a murderer and rapist. In an effort to convince JD to return with him to the Mid West, Blackwood attempted to eliminate all of JD's ties in Four Corners. He started with Chris Larabee and Buck Wilmington and almost succeeded in killing the latter. For Casey however, he played his cruelest card. Stealing into her room on the same night that men were attempting to murder Buck and Chris, Blackwood had raped the girl with instructions for her to abandon JD unless she wanted to face the humiliation of exposing their liaison with her painted as the seducer.

Fortunately, Casey had the courage to reveal the truth and JD loved her enough to believe it. After nearly killing Blackwood with his bare hands, the young man severed all ties that might exist between himself and his father before Blackwood was promptly encouraged to leave town. However, it now appeared that Casey's ordeal at the man's hands was far from done and as Alex held her in her arms, consoling her from something so terrible, the doctor was frankly at a loss over what to do.

"Oh Alex," Casey continued to sob breaking Alex's heart with her pitiful tears. "I don't know what to do! I'm so scared! I couldn't even tell Aunt Nettie!" 

"Casey it's not your fault." Alex said finally, wanting her to understand that first and foremost. "Blackwood is the guilty one here." The words however, felt like ashes in her mouth because Blackwood was not the one who would have to deal with this when the truth finally emerged and it would because there was no way to hide it even if they were to send Casey away. The ordeal of the pregnancy itself would be catastrophic for the young woman, much less having a child borne out of so vicious a crime.  

 

For the first time in her life as a doctor, Alex did not have an answer even though she needed one badly. She needed to talk to someone about this but was bound by her confidentially to her patient. It was an unpleasant feeling and her lack of answers was not helping Casey one bit. It pained her to say it but Alex was not even sure that she was capable of helping Casey because the only course of action she could give to the young woman was one she was certain Casey would not be able to endure.

 Just to confirm her suspicions, Casey unwittingly cried out. "I can't go through this Alex!" Casey wept. "I can't!"

Alex closed her eyes and held the girl closer, feeling herself more conflicted then she had ever been in her entire life. What made it all this all the more worse was the fact that Alex's desperation was due to the knowledge that she  _did_  have an answer to all this but it was one she was bound by law not to take. She was the only one capable of extricating Casey from her dire situation even though it meant risking everything to do it, her freedom and her ability to practice medicine.

In other words, to save Casey from her terrible fate, Alex would have to risk her future to do it. 

***********

Josiah Sanchez had an odd relationship with the Navajo chief of the local reserve.  

Their friendship had been forged following the ill-fated marriage of Claire Moselley to the Chief's oldest son Chanu. Claire had been the daughter of Reverend Moselley, a man determined to bring the word of God to the Navajo tribes in the region. Unfortunately, the man's tolerance for the red man extended only to his god, not his daughter and when Claire, a white woman, did the unthinkable by marrying a Navajo Indian, Moselley had murdered the girl. Moselley had then implicated Chanu in the crime. Had it not been for Vin Tanner and Josiah conducting separate but equally vital investigations to uncover the truth, Chanu would have been lynched and the reserve razed to the ground by angry townsfolk quick to believe the worse.

Since then, Josiah often came out to see the old man where they shared a meal together and spoke of their differing views of the world. Josiah found Kojay to be good company and had a feeling that the Chief had reformed his opinion about the white man slightly on the basis of his association with Josiah and Vin, not to mention Mary's advocacy of tribal rights and Alex and Nathan's periodic rendering of medical treatment. Josiah too was allowed into the fold of the Navajo life, a privilege afforded only to the tracker previously. He enjoyed communing with them and seeing the traditions of their life unchanged for generations. It reinforced his beliefs on continuity.

Both men sat on the ridge that faced offered a panoramic view of the land beyond the reservation. The sun was starting to set in the sky, draping an amber curtain of color behind it as it descended into the far off mountains. Kojay and Josiah said little as they basked in all this beauty but Josiah sensed that Kojayhad something on his mind. The Navajo chief often seemed all the more silent when he had something important to impart to the former preacher. Kojay had been like this all day and whatever the reason for his distraction, it was one the old man was having a great deal of conflict in attempting to decide what to do about it. Josiah had learn that it was often easier to let Kojay speak in his own good time, rather than to coax it from him.

Kojay smoked his pipe, allowing tendrils of smoke to rise from the spout into the air. Josiah gave the man a sidelong glance and saw Kojay letting out a deep breath. The wizened Indian was definitely troubled and it showed clearly in his marked and lined face. Josiah knew the expression well and recalled how Kojay had told him about Claire and Chano's marriage in much the same way.

 "Your people are going to make the Territory like the rest of the land, are they not?" Kojay finally spoke.

 Immediately, Josiah guessed the man was talking about statehood. He supposed that with so much talk around, such news was bound to reach even this far out. Statehood was a matter of great concern to the Indians but unfortunately, theirs was seldom an opinion solicited or wanted. Their use in the political arena was merely as fodder by both factions as a means to an end. For those against the notion of statehood, they used prejudice national prejudice against the Indians as a reason for maintaining the status quo. After all, who wanted to admit a state to the Union that was composed mostly of Indian tribes? 

"There is talk." Josiah did not lie to Kojay about that although he did not think that the current climate would see the Territory become a state just yet. People were not  _that_  concerned about it at the moment. It was just that a minority of loud voices made it seem otherwise. "But that's all it is, talk. Some like to talk to hear themselves speak, other because they truly believe but it doesn't look to be going anywhere at the moment. Why?"

Kojay shifted slightly so that he could look Josiah in the eye. "My people hear things. In this tribe, it frightens us. Our lands are already taken from us more than we like by white men and their guns. We do not want to lose all of it."

"I don't know what will happen if we do get statehood," Josiah answered honestly. He respected Kojay too much to start making assurances he had no idea would come to fruition. In truth, the question of what happened when statehood was reached was as confusing a subject as it was conflicted. There were so many opposing views to what would take place that the truth got lost somewhere in the middle. Could Kojay and his people lose their land? Maybe. Josiah did not honestly know.

"I wish I did.' He said genuinely wishing he could give Kojay the answer that he wanted. 

"My people fear this but they know that there are things that will happen whether or not we wish it so. It has been this way since your people came to our lands."

To that Josiah could not disagree, not about to relinquish the responsibility of his forebears for displacing so many of the natives tribes that were here long before the landing on Plymouth Rock.  

"I am sorry." The big man rumbled but inwardly wondered where this was leading.

Kojay seemed to nod, accepting an apology that did not make one bit of a difference to him or his people, simply out of politeness to his friend. "There are other tribes who fear this even more than we. Tribes who angry and willing to act. They have watched everything they know disappear before their eyes and that anger is a great cloud that does not go away even though they become use to it being there. It sits above their head as reminder of things they cannot change and serves only to make more resentful of your people." 

"I can't say I rightly blame them." Josiah remarked, staring into the horizon once more. The taming of this land had at come at a cost of blood, more often of the red man then the white.

"Lately, the cloud seems bigger, more terrible." Kojay continued. "Their voices are angry Josiah, so angry that they may not simple ignore it as they have done before."

Josiah stiffened as the implication of what Kojay was trying to tell him sunk deeper into his understanding. "You're saying that they might riot?"

Kojay did not want to say that but it was clear by the unhappiness on his face that the possibility existed, no matter how unpleasant. "There is something else at work here. Something I do not understand." He confessed. " They have been angry before but not like this and there is no reason for it to have grown so suddenly." 

"Like you said," Josiah drawled. "Anger grows. It feeds of hate and all the unhappiness inside the soul until it becomes wildfire, untamed and uncontrollable. It may be the case here. Your people have earned the right."

"Perhaps, but among their voices are the Pueblo. For the Pueblo, even though we have lived on these lands for many years, we are still new comers. Sometimes I think the Pueblo consider us no better than the white man. For many years they were the enemies of the Apache and the Navajo. For them to join with us but also the Commanche and the Ute, is unheard of. I think that there is a greater force that has bound them together, to make them hate a common enemy."

"A greater force?" Josiah asked, looking at him uncertainly. The Pueblos were oldest settlers of the region, preceded only by the extinct Anasazi. Although they composed of several different groups, speaking five distinct languages being Tewa, Tiwa, Towa, Keresan or Zunian, they acted as a united whole and though the coming of the white man had weakened them greatly, they were nonetheless a threat worth taking seriously. The Pueblos were the instigators of the Spanish Indian Revolt in 1680 and though it was two hundred years since that time, it was also two hundred years of oppression first by the Spaniards, then by the French and finally by the Union. If an uprising was coming, it was certainly not through lack of cause.

"They say a man comes among them to speak the truth. To tell them that if the white men of the Territory seeks and gains statehood, then we will lose all we know. He travels among the tribes and speaks to them of freedom and about regaining their lands. He says that we must fight to claim what was once ours or risk losing what we have for all time." Kojay continued. He had no wish to betray the confidences of his people but Kojay had seen the sentiments engendered by the stranger's inflammatory words. Right or wrong, no good could come of an uprising except blood spilled on either side, white and red.

It disturbed Josiah greatly to know that there someone was travelling around the various Indian tribes and inciting violence. In a state where the majority of its inhabitants were Native American tribes, the implications were nothing less than devastating if it were true. Josiah also knew that if the Indians did riot and slaughter any settlers, it would give the Union Army all the excuse it needed to obliterate the tribes from existence. The death of either white men or Indian was unacceptable to Josiah in any shape of form. If there was credence to any aspect of Kojay's story then it was wise to investigate now before things escalated out of control.  

Unfortunately Josiah would need Vin for this since the tracker was more familiar with the local tribes then he was. While the Apache and the Commanche considered Vin Tanner trustworthy, entering Pueblo territory was going to be dangerous no matter how much they needed the information.  

"This man that speaks the truth, what tribes does he come from?" Josiah asked gazing at Kojay, trying not to force the man into any uncomfortable revelations but required to draw it forth nonetheless. He knew from experience that forcing Kojay to speak would only make the man withdraw into himself. Josiah could see by the expression on the chief's face that thought he was telling Josiah what he knew, he was not at all happy about it.  

"He comes from no tribe." Kojay answered after another lengthy pause. 

It took a flicker of a second for Josiah to understand. "A white man?"  

"So I have been told." The chief nodded. "He calls himself the Eagle." 

"The Eagle?" Josiah's brow crooked upward in surprise. "Your people are letting themselves get fired up by a white man?"

Most of the native tribes distrusted the white settlers, Kojay had been no different until meeting himself and Vin. Josiah was skeptical that a Caucasian could sway the tribes into violence. An effort like that required some level of trust and Josiah could not imagine whole tribes trusting any white man to take them down on a road that could only lead to disaster, not just for themselves but also for the Territory and its European settlers. 

"He speak words that reaches us many of us." Kojay stared at Josiah, prickling at the insinuation his people were so prejudiced as to ignore a man's advice simply because he was the wrong color. "He has not come to this tribe but he has visited many others in these lands and he tells them that he can help them. He says that because he is a white man, he knows how to fight your laws and ensure the tribes' right to their own." 

"Words like that have power," Josiah was forced to begrudgingly agree. "The question is how much power is he giving the tribes? I get the feeling you wouldn't have brought this up with me unless you thought there was something to worry about, isn't that true?" 

Kojay turned away but his response was answer enough. "I do not wish to see my people die. If this man continues to do what he is doing, with his promises to those who have been angry at the white man for a long time, he will not only kill many of your people but will almost certainly destroy mine." 

He was right too, Josiah thought to himself. If there was a revolt and settlers were killed, there would always be more to take their place. With the opening of the railroad, settlers were flooding in from the East, eager to stake their claim in new lands. They would come no matter who had died there before. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about the Indians who since European colonization had found their world shrinking around them, a phalanx of steel, gunpowder and violence that made the space of their containment smaller each passing day. Someday soon, they would die out but if there was an uprising, those who had barely tolerated them in the past would demand their extermination unconditionally.

"I don't want to see that happen." Josiah said sincerely. "None of us do."

"Then you will find this man?" Kojay stared at him. 

"I will find him." The big man nodded firmly. "I will find him before it's too late." 

Kojay faced front once again, his eyes soaking up the setting sun in the distance. "If you do not find him, it will too late for  _all_  of us."

************

It was almost evening when Josiah returned to town. The rest of the seven were congregated inside the Standish saloon as was their habit since they had first come together as a group. Despite the radical changes in their lives since that time, the group nonetheless kept that tradition intact, mostly because it was a way to remind themselves what they meant to each other, as if their deep friendship was not enough. Still, it was undeniable that they were not the men who had first ridden into town almost three years ago. Their friendship had been the impetus for change that allowed them to take the next steps and no matter what, none of them would ever forget that. Even if it meant they shared a drink in the saloon every evening.

Ezra Standish as usual had incited Nathan, Vin and Buck into a game of poker while Chris and JD sat close by, nursing their drinks. The atmosphere in the saloon at this time of night was lively, with clunky music playing in the background from the ancient harpsichord that was more than a few strings off key. Saloon girls were making the rounds of the cowboys and patrons who shuffled in for evening entertainment while Inez stood behind the bar and served her clients, comfortably aware that her husband was keeping an eye out to ensure no one got rowdy. Truth be known, when most of the seven were inside any saloon in Four Corners, things rarely got out of hand. Most of the time, Chris was able to extinguish any bad behavior with the infamous Larabee glare and when that did not work, the six men at his side could offer and even more convincing argument.

"Damn Ezra." Buck swore as he saw what was left of his gambling money disappear into Ezra's side of the table when the gambler lay down four queens against the felt. "You got the luck of the devil tonight."

"Luck Mr Wilmington?" Ezra asked as he grinned broadly, revealing one gold tooth. "I would like to think of it as a gift."

"A gift of an extra deck of cards?" Nathan retorted, with more than a passing belief in his statement. 

"Really Mr Jackson," Ezra declared, displaying mock hurt. "I am simply speechless that you would believe me capable of cheating my associates."

 

"Ezra," Nathan signed putting a hand on the gambler's burgundy colored jacket. "You're great in a fight, you're a good friend and shocked as I find myself saying this, a generally decent human being but when it comes to money, you lose all good sense. You're like a kid in a candy store."

 The rest of the men at the table eased back into their seats, in a gesture of impartiality as Nathan and Ezra once again launched into their moral debates. When they had first met, Ezra could see Nathan as nothing more than a colored man from a race of former slaves while Nathan's perception of Ezra had decided the man to be not only a bigot but a dishonest cheater. However, through the years of their association, those barriers had lowered and their friendship was a strange mix of antagonism and respect. Nathan had always been the moral center of the group. For the healer, his world was not as ambiguous as those inhabited by the rest of the seven. Nathan had no difficulties distinguishing what was the right thing to do and when those around him, in particular, his friends forgot it, he was always there to give them a gentle nudge in the right direction. Ezra had somehow been Nathan's pet project though he never said it to the man or the rest of the seven. He acted as Ezra's conscienc e and Nathan knew he effected the gambler on some level because Ezra Standish though maintaining some of his baser instincts, was a far different man than he had been when they had first met.

 Nathan's remark drew a chuckle from his friends and Ezra smirked in the direction. "I'll have you know that in such establishments, I show remarkable restraint Nathan." 

"Sure you do." Chris responded with a completely straight face. "That's why you start to twitch whenever we have to escort the pay for the railroad workers from the bank."

"I do not twitch." Ezra said feigning outrage, aware that the gunslinger was having some amusement at his expense.

 "He's right," JD agreed. 

"Now see? Out of the mouth of babes." Ezra looked at the other faces at the table in vindication.  

"Ezra doesn't twitch," JD repeated himself, a little smile widening across his face. "But he does get that far away look in his eyes like he was day dreaming or something."

 "Thank you Mr Dunne." Ezra retorted sarcastically. "Always nice to know that I can rely on my associates for support."

JD was about to respond when suddenly Josiah made his appearance through the bat wing doors. The preacher had ridden straight to the saloon following his arrival in town, aware that at this time of the evening the rest of the seven would be congregated there. Josiah removed his dust covered hat as he made his way to them, making eye contact with Inez long enough to let the lady bartender know that he was there and that he would like his usual. A chorus of greetings met him when he reached them and Buck helpfully pulled a vacant chair from another table for him to join them. 

"How's things at the reservation?" Chris asked when he was settled in.

"Peaceful enough for the moment." Josiah answered. However there was something in his voice that made the hairs on the back of Chris' neck stand on end. It was usually a pretty good gauge for the gunslinger to ascertain that there was trouble looming in the nearby distance.

"For the moment?" Vin looked at him from beneath the brim of his hat as he took up his cards from the latest game of poker they were playing. "What does that mean?" 

"Exactly what I said," Josiah responded. "Kojay told me that we may have trouble brewing with the Indians around here."

Chris sat up immediately in his chair and while the quartet playing cards did not stop their game, Josiah knew he had their undivided attention.  

"What sort of trouble?" Chris asked in that voice not unlike grated glass, lethal and all business. 

"Someone is firing up the tribes." Josiah explained. "Frightening them with stories about statehood and what that would mean for them." 

"Someone?" Buck asked. "Who'd be stupid enough to do that?" 

"Kojay says this someone calls himself the Eagle and he's white." The preacher returned automatically. "Apparently, he's been travelling to most of the tribes, Navajo, Commanche, Ute, Apache and even the Pueblo."  
"The Pueblo listening to a white man?" Vin raised his brow skeptically. "They don't trust anyone who ain't one of their own. Can't say I blame them. They've been in the Territory longer than anyone, then come the Navajo and Apache who start claiming Pueblo land for their own, taking slaves and God only knows what else. They spend the next two hundred years fighting a war with both the Navajo and the Apache before they get overrun by Commanches and Ute. They get through all that and then they've got to deal with Spanish missionaries before we take our turn at them." 

"Well they're listening to him, according to Kojay." Josiah met the tracker's gaze. "You know Kojay, he isn't one to speak his mind unless he knew it was the truth."

 

Vin could not disagree with Josiah on that score. Kojay was honest and forthright, neither was he prone to exaggeration or making false claims.. In an age where everything he knew was slipping through his fingers, Kojay tried valiantly to guide his people through the difficult transition of the world they knew and the one they would have to survive in if they were to survive. "I know that but I can't see the Pueblo trusting any white man enough to go to get all fired up about it."

 "Depends on whether or not he has the right words." Nathan remarked. "They've been angry for a long time, it doesn't take much for that to burn out of control if someone has the right spark."

"The thing that worries me most is that Kojay believes that the man's words are uniting the Indian tribes in the area. When push comes to shove, there are more of them then there are of us. Settlers are coming in all the time but the Territory's mostly Indians. If they got it in their mind for an uprising, we could be in a world of trouble." Josiah pointed out his most prevalent fear. 

The table went silent at the possibility because it was a horrifying thought indeed. There had been Indian massacres in the past and the stories of the bodies left behind were nothing to dismiss, especially when there was a possibility of it happening again. Vin had seen such massacres when he played tracker to the army some years back and the horrific images were still imprinted on his brain. While he bore them no malice over what had been done because much worse had happened to them in kind, Vin had no wish to see Four Corners in that kind of danger. Alex immediately came to mind and his stomach knotted at the thought of his beautiful wife falling prey to such a horrible death.

"We need to find out for sure." Chris said decisively because if any of this could be remotely true then they had very little time to talk. He glanced at the tracker, "Vin you know where the tribes are in Territory, you think anyone of them trust you enough to talk to you about what might be going on?"

Vin considered the question for a few seconds and then nodded. "I reckon there are a few. What you got in mind padre?"

"I want you and Josiah to talk to them. See if what Kojay is saying has any truth behind it. I'm hoping he's wrong but you need to get a whiff of the wind."

Vin understood completely what Chris was instructing him to do. "First light Josiah?" He glanced in the direction of the older man.  

"Sounds good to me." Josiah drawled after a saloon girl served him his drink and he took a deep sip of beer. 

"We'll sit tight for the moment," Chris continued formulating his strategy. "If there is any truth to this then we'll start alerting the towns and I'll get send a wire to the army." 

"The army?" Vin flinched unhappily. "Do we have to?" 

"The army would be the prudent course of action against those numbers if they are coming at us, Vin." Ezra pointed out. 

"I know," Vin shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "But it may also give them an excuse to do more harm to Indians around here. I mean most of them have had their tribal lands taken from them until it ain't a patch of what it used to be. The Army don't like the Indian much and I've seen the slaughter of entire tribes. I just don't want the idea of a possible attack to give the Army a reason to wipe them all out, especially women and children." 

"Nobody wants that Vin," JD agreed with the tracker's concern but he could not deny that the idea of this entire town being overrun by vengeful Indians was frightening him as well. They all had loved ones here. They all stood to lose a great deal by such an attack.  

"I know what you mean," Buck said gently. "But we got to be realistic of our chances without the army if the Indians have been stoked into an uprising." 

"Its only if we are sure about this," Chris assured him. "If it will be make you feel better, I'll send the wire to the General first." 

Nobody needed clarification on who the General was. They all knew that it was Chris' way of referring to his father, General Marcus Larabee. Until some months ago, father and son had been estranged for almost 20 years until the crisis involving Hannibal Julius brought them together. The General was now very much apart of Chris' life, often coming to Four Corners to visit Chris and his young family. The General was very much like Chris himself, although none of the others would ever say it to the gunslinger. Both possessed that keen intellect that always had a handle on things, not to mention an insight into knowing immediately what had to be done and had more than enough presence to ensure that it  _did_  get done. 

"Thanks pard," Vin said gratefully. In truth, the tracker did not believe that there was anyone out there who had the power to unite the different Indians tribes to follow such a destructive cause, especially a white man.  

However, if Kojay was right and someone had inspired an uprising; then God help them all because Vin had no idea how any of them would survive.  

************

 After Ezra Standish had spent another half hour at the Standish saloon where he continued cleaning out the rest of his companions of their hard earned cash before choosing to retreat wisely to Julia Pemberton's home, where the lady had prepared supper and was awaiting his arrival. The others had done the same, scattering to the four winds and to the company of their families and paramours. Chris was undoubtedly breaking bread with Mary and his two boys. Vin would be doing the same with Alex. JD would most likely be sharing a repast with Buck and his family, while Nathan would grab something before retiring to his infirmary above C&D Smith Livery & Feed for a long night of studying for his accreditation to being a fully-fledged doctor. Josiah was no doubt at his church on in the company of Audrey King and it appeared more and more lately that the preacher would be the next one of them to make a matrimonial commitment.

Ezra arrived at Julia's wondering why he had not taken that step with her already. They had been lovers long enough. He did know that he wanted to marry her for he had never remained with any female so long and still be devoid of the need to run when it appeared he might be feeling too much for her. Of course, that had never been the case for him when it came to Julia. Ezra had tumbled headlong for Julia Pemberton the moment he had met her. For one as jaded as he and with as much experience with the opposite sex, far more than he would like to admit, Ezra knew the feeling was genuine when he had been hit so hard.

"What's on your mind Ezra?" Julia asked.

They had just shared a meal from the confines of Julia's four poster bed. Ezra lay in the sheets with her not only sated but completely satisfied. She nuzzled against his chest, planting soft kisses across the smooth skin, her red lips playing havoc with his control even in the aftermath of their astonishing love making. The lady, much to his intense gratitude, was insatiable and when they pleasured each other, it seemed as if they were creating another milestone in pleasure. He ran his fingers across her hair as she let her silken lips graze his collarbone.

"What makes you believe there is anything on my mind, my dear?" He asked languidly, his eyelids heavy from her whispery touches against his skin.

"Oh you seem rather distracted." She paused a moment and cast her emerald colored eyes on him. "Well not during of course," she chuckled, "but certainly before and after." 

It amazed him how she was one of those few people, other than Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner who could read him so easily. Still, he had no wish to lie to her especially when what preoccupied his mind involved her as well. 

"I have been thinking about us." He stated meeting her gaze. 

Julia stopped short what she was doing and raised herself to her elbow so that she could carry out this conversation on something of an equal footing. "And?" She urged him to continue. 

"How long have we been together?" He asked. "I would think a little over a year?" 

"A year and a little bit more." She agreed, wondering where he was going with this.

Julia loved him deeply but she had no illusions that commitment as a whole scared him. He was a man used to leaving no ties, travelling from one place of another in search of the perfect card game and the equally perfect con. However, buried in all that wanderlust was a secret desire to belong, to be trusted and to be apart of something greater than himself. Being one of the Magnificent Seven had given Ezra that and though he did not like to admit it, it had changed him.

"We should solidify our relationship with something more permanent." He looked at her.

"Are you talking about marriage?" She said with surprise.

"Well we have been telling the good people of Four Corners that we are engaged. Marriage is the natural progression after that." He retorted, taking great delight in her surprised expression. It was not often that he saw that look on her lovely face and was enjoying it immensely.

"I thought you didn't want to get married." Julia managed to say.

"I had thought you felt the same way." He returned.

"I used to," she said honestly, "but things have changed. When I first got to Four Corners, I'd spent a life where everyone looked after me. My father made all my decisions, even to the point of whom I would be marrying. Four Corners gave me a chance to be my own person and I think I've done alright but I do know that I love you," she smiled at him. "I love you enough to trust you would never treat me like a possession."

"Well I have always admired strong women." He replied, brushing a strand of copper hair from her face and relishing the softness of her skin against his fingertip. "I knew it was important to you so I did not press the issue but I have always wanted to marry you, no matter how anxious the subject might make me feel some times."

"So are we setting a date?" Her eyes twinkled with challenge. "Is that what this is about?" 

"If it was not, my elocution would need work." He joked.

"You can be funny but I will hold you to anything you say after this point." She said firmly. "I'm ready to be tamed and domesticated."

"Strange," he offered with a glint of mischief in his eye. "I was thinking likewise."

 "Shall we get married in town?" Julia pressed on, deciding to see how resolved he was about this.  

"I do not know." Ezra sighed, remembering what a crowded affair Chris Larabee's wedding had been. He would prefer not to have that many people but knew the choice was really out of his hands. Once the rest of the ladies in their circle of friends heard about a wedding, it would snowball very quickly out of proportion. Ezra was hoping for something small in the way that Alex and Vin's had been but supposed that was hoping for too much. Besides, he would like his friends to enjoy one of the most important days of his life with him. 

"It doesn't matter," Julia sighed happily as she resumed kissing his flesh and Ezra felt the stirrings that enabled him to respond to her overtures. "We'll work it out later."

"I heartily agree," he remarked as he took her face in his hand and allowed her lips to become his world once again. 

**********

 It was in the small hours of the morning when Ezra finally departed from Julia' home to return to his lodgings. He was still smoldering from the effects of hours of love making and found himself looking forward to the day when he would not have to make these twilight departures for sake of keeping her virtue unblemished. The intimacies of their relationship had been conducted this way for so long that Ezra wondered how he would cope with the bliss of actually having her in his arms when he awoke in the morning. For a man who thought that marriage was not for him, knowing that he was taking this vital step did not inspire the trepidation that it normally did. It was that fact more than any other that convinced Ezra he was ready to become a husband.

At this time of the night, the streets of Four Corners were deserted and quiet. With the night sky casting an indigo shade over the uneven skyline of single to double storied buildings, the whole town had an iridescent luster that stoked the sentimentalist inside of him. Ezra knew that his starry gaze had a great deal to do with the way he spent his evening but he did not care. He was exactly where he had always wanted to be, surrounded by friends and a woman he loved dearly, not to mention having a business though not booming was doing well in its own right, he also commanded a certain level of respect from the townsfolk and his associates.

 He walked across the space that existed between Julia's house behind the Emporium to the first store on the main commercial strip in town. There was no one on the street and as he continued across the gravel could hear nothing from the saloon either. At this time of the night, if there were any drunks left, they would most likely be under the bar rather than soliciting fresh orders. It was a warm summer's night and Ezra's pace was relaxed, just as the rest of him. His lodgings were only a few hundred feet away and though he appreciated the sleep after his session with Julia, he was in no particular hurry to get there.

Stepping onto the boardwalk, his boots amplified his footsteps as he walked down the paneled wood surface. Gloria Potter's store came and went as Ezra made it across one block of shops and prepared to begin down another when suddenly, a fist came out of nowhere from the narrow gap in-between and struck him on the jaw. Ezra staggered sideways at the attack and went for his gun when suddenly, hands took hold of his shooting arm before he could reach it and the audible click of a gun hammer, ended any further attempts. 

"Make a sound and we'll blow your head off." Ezra's blood chilled when he realised the voice was female.

"Diana?" He strained to see as she appeared out of the darkness.

"I am so honored that you deigned to call me by my first name, Mr Standish," she said coldly as her men tightened their grip on Ezra. He felt one of them relieving him of his gun. "After all, you were the one who insisted on keeping up the formalities." 

"What do you want from me Madam?" Ezra demanded angrily. 

"Don't forget the derringer." Diana ignored him momentarily to impart that small instruction. 

Ezra cursed inwardly at his only advantage being taken from him. No sooner than she had spoken the words, her cohorts were removing his trusty derringer from under his sleeve.

"I'm sorry to waylay you in this manner Ezra," she looked at him with a sinister gleam in her narrowing eyes. "But you need to take a ride with me." 

"Thank you but I should like to decline." Ezra returned smoothly, not about to show he was at all concerned. 

"I wish I could oblige you," Diana answered just as expertly. "However, I'm afraid I must insist." She nodded slightly. 

Ezra had just enough time that the gesture was not for him because the realization was followed by an explosion of pain from the back of his skull before the world went black. 


	3. Revenge

Ezra Standish awoke to find his worse nightmares to be nothing in comparison to the reality he now faced.  

His head throbbed but the pain dissolved into nothingness when he woke up and saw where he was. Instinctively, without any evidence to prove otherwise, he knew where he was. Not precisely where as a matter of location but rather in whose hands Diana had delivered him. The furnishings that surrounded him were opulent and befitting one who thought himself to be a king among men. The room he found himself locked within was decorated with the finest, from the plush carpet on the floor to the furniture that was classic Louis XIV. Ezra knew of only one person who kept himself in such splendor and knowing it chilled the blood inside his veins. Suddenly, Ezra had never felt so helpless as he did the moment he realised that he was once again in the power of a man who could destroy him in more ways than one. 

Ezra searched the room frantically, knowing it was useless even before he made the attempt but his fear compelled him to try nonetheless. It took him seconds to verify visually what his mind already knew; neither his usual sidearm nor his derringer was anywhere in sight. Of course, Ezra knew that his captor would never be stupid enough to allow it to be within reach. He scrambled off the bed and crossed the expensive rug on the polished wooden floor, trying to discern just how long it was he had been out. There was no windows in the room, so he had no idea how long he had been unconscious and there was only one door that led out of it. Predictably when Ezra reached it, he found the door locked, ensuring his prolonged captivity inside his opulent cage for the moment at least.  

"Damn!" He swore uncharacteristically and turned around to get a closer look at his prison. 

His hat sat comfortably on a hat stand at the corner of the bed and Ezra wondered fleetingly if this was this captor's room. The notion made him ill and he shuddered to think what the man might have in store for him. The most obvious answer was the one Ezra could least stomach even though he knew that it was the only certainty about all this. It was his own fault, Ezra told himself as he retreated to the bed and sat down at the edge of the mattress to collect his thoughts and decide what he was going to do, if there was anything at all he could go do extricate himself from this situation. Ezra had placed himself in the trouble he was presently in when he had rescued Mary Travis from the clutches of the organization known as the Citadel and its leader. 

Hannibal Julius. 

Just thinking the name, send new rivulets of fear running through him as if the man's name alone had power over him. In some respect, Ezra knew it did. Mostly because his fear of Julius was not due to the fact that he feared dying but what Julius would put him through before that inevitable death. Ezra remembered how he had pretended to reciprocate Julius' attraction towards him in order to trick the man into telling him about the Citadel's plans for the Territory. Unfortunately, it had worked too well and by the end of the whole affair, Hannibal escaped but not before he declared that he would return to claim what was his; namely Ezra. Ezra closed his eyes remembering how he had kissed Julius on the mouth, how the sensation of touching another man had repulsed him but clearly excited Julius. Ezra knew that capture by Julius did not simply mean falling into the hand of the enemy but becoming subject to his desires.

 He had to get out of here! 

Ezra knew he was starting to panic and told himself that such an action would only get himself killed. He had to calm down and start thinking about this logically, the way one would dissect an opponent playing a game of cards. A crystal decanter of brandy sat on a silver platter on a table at the far end of the room and at the moment a drink did not seem like such a bad idea at all. Ezra poured himself a glass of brandy and savored the taste in his mouth when he took a sip. He had drained the glass when he felt a warmth come over him, a sensation of peace that gave him the balance he needed to think his way out of his present circumstances. 

Almost as that thought moved across his mind, the sound of the doorknob twisted and Ezra almost stiffened in reaction, forcing the bile of fear that surged up his gullet at the impending arrival of his captor. For a man accustomed to never showing fear, Ezra knew that he if he did not compose himself, he would be in no condition to extricate himself from this mess. More importantly, he could not believe it was just coincidence that Julius had chosen now to strike. There was something afoot that pertained to more than just his abduction. Besides, Julius could not expect to keep him indefinitely without Chris Larabee and the rest of his friends tearing the countryside apart in their search for his retrieval.

The door swung open and Diana Belladonna stepped in first. She was dressed in a sweeping sapphire gown, with her hair piled on top of her head as if she were about to dine out for the evening and appearing nothing like a kidnapper but a lady in every sense of the word. Ezra glared at her as they made eye contact and she started to smile. It took a fraction of a second for Ezra to realise that she was not alone. Following closely behind her was Beauregard Kitson, a man Ezra recognized to be a fanatic who had gone on a murder spree involving stagecoaches. At the time, none of the seven could understand what the motive for the murders had been but now as Ezra felt his breath catch inside his chest at the sight of Hannibal Julius following closely behind, Ezra realised the seven had been mistaken about a great number of things. 

"Its good to see you Ezra," Julius said with a little smile and to Ezra's horror, he realised that Julius really meant it.

There was affection in his eyes and hunger. The expression in his eyes as he traveled up the length of the gambler nearly destroyed whatever composure Ezra had been trying to maintain and immediately, Ezra turned back to the decanter, deciding another drink was in order to rebuild his shattered equilibrium. He filled the glass quickly and almost gulped down its contents, barely stopping to swallow rather than inhale it. Once again that warm feeling reached out with comforting touch and calmed him down again. When Ezra turned around, Diana was standing next to Julius who was seated on a wing chair, legs stretched out before him, his fingers drumming against each other watching Ezra closely. Kitson had taken point next to the door, his hand not far from the weapon in his holster. The fanatic watched Ezra with the barest hint of a smile which only made the gambler more apprehensive. 

"I wish I could say likewise Hannibal." Ezra returned smoothly, lowering himself onto his bed so he could maintain the facade of indifference he was attempting to project. "But I would be lying."

"I expected nothing less." Julius answered. "I take it there is no reason for me to make my introductions, you are familiar with my associates." He gave a quick sidelong glance at Diana and Kitson in a split second. 

"I recognise Miss Belladonna as the unsuccessful solicitor of my affections these past few weeks." Ezra stared at her with accusation and Diana's eyes for once returned his gaze with one that revealed her true emotions and it was a far different creature from the scheming woman whom had tried to destroy his relationship with Julia. There was almost something about it that seemed reluctant and sad.

"I had a job to do Mr Standish." Diana returned. "I did not choose the manner in which I was to carry it out."

"Oh but I think you're just a little affected by our handsome Mr Standish, aren't you my dear?" Julius said derisively, giving Ezra a perfectly predatory look. "I'm afraid he's spoken for."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Diana feigned ignorance and felt her cheeks flushed with hatred when she saw Kitson snorting his disbelief with as much arrogance as Julius. "I did my job and he is here." 

"Of course he is my dear," Julius smiled, not at all believing her.

Diana did not look at Ezra and something about the pity in her eyes as she turned her gaze away made him most anxious indeed. 

"Well you have me here Julius," Ezra asked boldly, deciding not to play Julius' game and get to the heart of the matter. "I am assuming Miss Belladonna's rabid pursuit of me was at your beckoning, in some twisted revenge for what I did to you during our last encounter and Mr Kitson's goal obviously was not to leave murder and mayhem in his wake terrorizing passengers on stagecoaches. What grand scheme do you have planned that requires so much distraction?" The gambler challenged.

"Well," Julius started to smile. "You see through me as always Ezra but then you see through everyone don't you? Your friends and your lovers." His eyes narrowed and for an instant, Ezra was allowed see the amount of rage he had inspired in Hannibal Julius' psyche for his act of betrayal. 

"Spare me the evaluation," Ezra retorted, finding his words coming a little slower this time. He wondered if the alcohol was starting to affect him but dismissed the possibility almost immediately, it would require more than two shots of brandy to make his slight of hand anything but still razor sharp. "You obviously have something else transpiring elsewhere in the Territory, I can see no other reason why else you would send Mr Kitson on a rampage as you have unless it was not your attention to call every law enforcement officer to arms at his actions."

"Well since you insist on knowing," Julius answered calmly, not at all perturbed by Ezra's sharp words. "I do have a little something planned which I am sure you'll find out soon enough. However Miss Belladonna's mischief into your relationship with the lovely Miss Pemberton and Ezra I must commend you, she is astonishingly beautiful, was a little indulgence on my part." 

"You stay away from Julia." Ezra hissed, feeling nothing less than disgust hearing this animal speak her name. He took two steps forward but knew before he even heard the gun hammer click behind him that Kitson had drawn his weapon and was prepared to shoot. Ezra blinked once and saw that the derringer that once remained hidden within a harness beneath his shirt now lay in her gloved hand was staring back at him, barrel first.

"Rest assured, it is not Julia I am interested in." Julius responded rising slowly from his chair.

Ezra caught his meaning and returned in a low whisper. "Over my dead body."  

"Come now," Julius' eyes narrowed. "It won't take quite that much will it?" 

"Never!" Ezra growled and prepared to be shot to keep that from happening but instead, all that happened as he closed the distance between himself was Kitson bringing down the butt of his gun on the back of his neck. Pain exploded throughout his consciousness but not as acutely as he thought it would. As Ezra dropped to his knees, he realised that the pain was dull, as if the edge had been taken off somehow. It was not as disabling a strike as it could have been. Such attacks had the power to render one unconscious, like he had been when Diana had delivered him here in the first place.

He tried to stand up when he felt a wave of dizziness hit him that was more than just the effects of the blow delivered to his skull. He felt the pain yes but now there was this perennial fog descending upon his consciousness that made it hard to focus. He stood up somewhat shakily and tried to regain some measure of balance but it eluded him. His body felt warm and relaxed almost as if his brain did not want to function. He could access things if he concentrated enough but his control was slipping like grains of sand through outstretched fingers. He was not drunk, Ezra told himself defiantly. He could not be on just two glasses of brandy! Unless.... 

The thought surfaced so acutely that it had the power to slice cleanly through his disorientation with razor sharp clarity. He tried to look at the decanter sitting so innocently on the table with poison swirling within its amber contents but Ezra could not even manage that.  

"What did you do to me?" Ezra forced himself to speak, his word escaping him in slurred and indistinct syllables. 

"I did nothing to you." He heard Julius answer and opened his eyes to see the man was coming towards him.

 Ezra stepped back but he almost fell over from the effort. He found himself against the edge of the bed. "You bastard. You poisoned me."

"I furnished it," Julius said in that slick voice full of confidence and triumph. "You drank it rather willingly, without any coercion from me. I wonder," the man remarked. "Are you so willing about other things you normally need coercion?" 

"Touch me and I will kill you." Ezra spat futilely but knew he was lost because he could barely stand upright. The effect of the drug in his system was still not enough to spare him the horror of what was about to happen.

Julius stepped right to Ezra's ear and whispered softly, "you won't kill me Ezra but I will touch you. I told you once before, you were mine and I always take what is mine." 

* * *

It had taken Chris Larabee time to get used to Ezra Standish. 

He knew that much of his difficulty had to do with the incident that saw Ezra running out on the rest of the seven during their first adventure together. In retrospect, Chris supposed it was unrealistic to expect the man to behave any differently although at the time, Chris was ready to skin him alive for the act. However, much of Chris' tolerance in the months to come had to do with the fact that the notion of having friends who watched one's back was so alien to Ezra, he did not recognise it for what it was until he had started riding. Before that point, Chris doubted Ezra had ever knew what true camaraderie was but fortunately for all of them, had quickly grasped its significance enough as being important enough to turn back in an attempt to salvage the situation. 

Since then, their personal friendship had its good days and its bad. For most past, Chris knew that he could trust Ezra explicitly. The man still had some bad habits that Chris could be tempted to strangle him for. He still complained about making a dollar a day, seemed to lose all good sense where money was concerned and complained incessantly about exerting himself with anything as vulgar as menial labor. However, Chris also knew that in a fight, Ezra would die to protect those he was with. When he used that high powered intellect for something other than a con, he was a mind to be reckoned with and though he did it in a very off handed way, he was always quick to show that the people were the most important things in his life. 

Chris just wished that the man could keep an appointment. 

It was dawn and Chris wanted to make an early start of their patrol today. With Vin and Josiah out of town, chasing up the possibilities of a new Indian uprising and the ill wind of statehood still making tempers volatile, he did not want to be too far away from town today. With four of them away, there would only be Buck; JD and Nathan left to defend Four Corners should trouble come riding along. Thus Chris wanted to get their morning patrol underway as soon as possible. Usually, he did this chore with Vin but since the tracker had other business to attend, he found himself teamed with Ezra on this particular morning. 

Chris waited at Yosemite's livery for almost twenty minutes before he went searching for Ezra who was most likely in bed at this time of the morning. Four Corners was still quiet as Chris strode over the boardwalk, heading towards Ezra's lodgings. As he walked down the main walk of the town, he saw Virgil Watson giving him a little wave from the front porch of Watson's Hardware. Chris tipped his hat at the crusty old man who was one of the few people in town that had advocated their presence as Four Corner's peacekeepers in the early days of their tenure here. In a matter of minutes, Chris arrived at the lodging house where Ezra resided and let himself in quietly.  

The owner of the establishment, Mrs Irene Satler was accustomed to seeing the seven on her premises since Ezra was now a long time lodger. She greeted Chris politely, offered him a cup of coffee which he declined politely before telling her that he was here to see Ezra. Mrs Satler made some remark about being uncertain if Ezra was there or not because the gambler kept such unusual hours. She accompanied Chris to Ezra's room and waited until Chris had knocked a couple of times and not received any response before she used her own keys to let him into the room. 

Chris stepped inside Ezra Standish' private bastion and found the room to be devoid of its master. 

Chris walked past the threshold of the door and let his gaze sweep across the room. The air within it was cold and gave him the impression that no one had been inside its confines for some time. Everything was kept neat and tidy and Chris could not say whether this was to Mrs Satler's efforts or Ezra himself because the gambler was more fastidious than any man had a right to be. Everything sat in its place and as Chris took a step deeper into the room, he noted that the bed had not been slept in. Stepping up to the feather mattress, because Ezra would accept nothing less, Chris placed his palm beneath the covers and made contact with the cool sheets. Cold greeted his hand and Chris withdrew, firm in the conclusion that Ezra had not slept here last night. 

"He didn't come home." Chris said more to himself. 

"Maybe he slept at the saloon." Mrs Satler point out. 

"Maybe." Chris ignored the pinpricks of suspicion against his skin. He should not leap to conclusions just yet, Chris told himself, not when he had not investigated all possibilities yet.  

Thanking Mrs Satler for letting him in the room, Chris departed from the lodging house with a new destination in mind. He had been at the livery so he knew Ezra was still in town because his horse Chaucer was still stabled there when Chris had arrived this morning. Chris did not let himself suspect the worst yet because it was very likely that Ezra was at Julia Pemberton's. Like most of the seven, with the possible exception of Josiah, the rest of the seven had been on intimate terms with their women before entering a matrimonial state. Most of them had always the good sense to never be seen leaving the homes of their women before dawn. Chris had always made sure he was never seen leaving Mary's before their marriage because he had no wish to ruin her reputation with any scandal. As far as Chris knew, Ezra was similarly mindful of Julia's standing in the community. 

Julia would not be up yet so Chris did the polite thing and knocked on her front door once he left the white picket fence that surrounded her home and walked up the cobblestone path to her porch. He knocked a few times before the door swung open and Julia who was clearly still in bed, pulled her robe closer around herself as she ran her fingers through her fiery locks to make herself looking somewhat presentable. 

"Morning Julia." He greeted with a slight tip of his hat.  

"Chris?" She said still not completely awake as she stared at him with leery eyes. "Come in." She withdrew into the hallway, expecting him to follow her as she retreated back to the parlor of her house. 

"Is Ezra here?" He asked once the door closed behind him. 

Julia turned around immediately, suddenly very alert. "No," she shook her head. "He went back to the lodging house last night."

"Are you sure?" He asked, tensing at the news that now put Ezra's absence in a very different light. "I went to his place. He ain't there. He hasn't been there all night." 

"But he left here at about 2.30 this morning," she replied, staring to get frightened. "He doesn't stay because he's worried about what people might think about it." Her voice was starting to shake with fear. 

"Julia," Chris came forward and cupped her cheek gently within his palm. "Calm down, this is only the second place I looked. If I know Ezra, he's probably at the saloon in all night poker game." 

That was not far from the truth because Ezra was known to play into the small hours of the night if the stakes and the competition were challenging enough. However, Chris also knew that while the gambler might complain about his duties as peacekeeper disrupting his private life, Ezra would never neglect it either. Besides Chris could not imagine Ezra being late when he knew that he was riding with Chris today. For some reason, Chris seemed to inspire Ezra's efforts and while the gunslinger did not mind it, he also wished Ezra realised that the time where he had to prove anything to Chris was long past. 

"You know he wouldn't do that if he was riding with you." Julia declared, thinking exactly what he was at the moment.

Chris fell silent; unable to deny her when he had thought the same thing himself. "Yeah," he nodded slightly. "I know that." 

Julia's eyes clearly showed her rising fear and she swallowed thickly. "He said he had to get back last night," she spoke softly, remembering what he had told her after he had slipped out of her bed and proceeded to get dressed, even though she had asked him to stay, not caring if anyone saw him the next morning. "He didn't say he had to ride with you this morning and I ought to know what you're like if he's late." 

Chris stifled a smiled supposing he was deserving of being considered such an ogre. However, there was no humor in the situation because it was looking very evident that something had happened to Ezra. Unfortunately, with a trail that was hours old, their chances of finding him were next to remote and Vin had already left town with Josiah, so Chris could not even count on the skills of an experienced tracker. Still, Chris intended to tear the countryside apart just the same until the gambler resurfaced.  

He just hoped that Ezra could hold out until they found him. 

* * *

 

**Warning: This section does involve explicit scenes that are slash in nature (Rating NC-17)**

 

Ezra could smell Julia's perfume around him. 

His head was groggy and when he tried to open his eyes, his lid remained thick hoods fastened firmly over his eyes, refusing to allow any sight to reach him. He tried to think clearly of where he was but was drawn instead to the irresistible feel of cool sheets against his bare skin and the softness of the mattress beneath him. His body was drained of all its energy and the attraction of lying still was very powerful indeed. The pillow upon which he rested his head was equally enticing and Ezra let out a breathless sigh even though he could not seem to grasp what he was doing in such warm, comfortable surroundings.

"Julia." He whispered, recognizing her scent immediately. His Julia loved expensive French perfume and its soft and subtle aroma reminded him of all things her, fiery red hair and emerald colored eyes, almost feline in their mystique. He thought of touching alabaster skin and drowning in the silken feel of her lips when he felt himself being turned on to his back.

 Hands touched his skin and though something in the back of his head told him he should feel caution, Ezra could not ignore the smooth palms running languidly across his chest, caressing the muscle almost reverently. Somewhere in the background he heard a breathless sigh and found himself yearning for her touch again. Suddenly a mouth enclosed his nipple hardened by exposure to the cool air and Ezra found himself groaning in pleasure. His body arched to meet the mouth insistently suckling at him and when he tried to move his hands to touch, he found they were trapped. He was too groggy to care why or make further protest when the hand attacked his other nipple and began to thumb it with expert caresses.

 "Yes." He muttered. "More Julia, more." 

There was a pause and those lips moved away from his chest and drew a disappointed whimper from his lips before kisses traveled down the center of his stomach, brushing lightly against the fine hairs of his torso. Ezra felt his erection come upon him at the feel of her soft lips against him, sliding downward and filling him anticipation of what would happen when she finally reached her destination. Still, as much as he enjoyed the kisses against his skin, the caresses from smooth, soft hands, there was a part of him that was not willing to submit completely to the desire building inside him. He could feel danger on the edge of his consciousness but could not see it.

Ezra took a deep breath and there is was again, the subtle aroma of Julia's perfume filling his consciousness and forcing away his inhibitions. He remembered touching her, how it felt to see her face melt into ecstasy when her orgasm came upon her and the overwhelming pleasure that came with knowing that it was he who made her feel that way. He groaned when he felt hands molding over his stiffened cock and began stroking it with expert movements. Once again he tried to move his hands but they were restrained somehow, so the only thing he could do was claw at air while he was being assaulted with pleasing sensations.

"Julia," he moaned again. "You're so beautiful."

A mouth slid over his cock and made Ezra cry out even though it was not customary for him to do so. Normally, he tried to maintain some semblance of control but he had no such power here. How could he when that mouth was doing such splendid things to him. He was groaning out loud as he felt the life and soul being drawn from him with each stroke from that heavenly mouth. His hip were moving of their own accord now, thrusting urgently into that tight ring of flesh. He could feel his stomach constrict as his orgasm began to build inside of him.  

"So good," he muttered as his balls started to tighten and the pressure inside his cock reached a point he could not longer endure. "God, that is so good." He shuddered incoherently, feeling his entire body become one exposed nerve ending that needed stimulation desperately. He was starting to pant as the pace increased and he could no longer process when one heavenly stroke began and another ended. The tongue that laved the underside of his heavy shaft was merciless, tasting him with each laving, pausing at brief intervals to punish his glans with a slow, caressing swirl across the head while exploring the slit and drawing another cry of pleasure from him.  

"Turn over," a voice whispered through the darkness.

"Yes," he groaned, too far over the edge to realise that it was not Julia's. He started to turn around slowly and the mouth left him, although it was replaced by a hand once more and the pumping continued at a slightly less frantic place allowing him to enjoy the sensations without being completely overwhelmed by it.

"On your knees." The voice instructed and Ezra complied, confused but not too much because he was still pushing against the hand that was giving him so much pleasure. 

It was hard to brace himself on his knees when his hands were restrained and when he opened his eyes, the fog inside his mind had receded enough to let him recognise that his wrists were bound together by a thick rope that kept him tethered to the bed post. His mind reeled in confusion at how this could be when something warm and slick was applied to his rear. He tensed at fingers probing his back passage, trying to understand what was happening. It was not an unpleasant sensation and coupled with the forceful stroking his cock was presently subjected to, it was an intriguing feeling. 

"Julia what are you doing?" He managed to ask uncertainly, coherence returning to him very slightly.

He was answered when he felt what he was certain to be a finger penetrating him fully. His body was torn between the sensation of pleasure and pain and it was potent mix that made him moan out loud as that finger began exploring his insides. Ezra felt his breath catch at the sensation of that one finger and then two, making scissor movements as the taut muscles were stretched and coaxed pleasurably into yielding. The pleasure was beyond belief and Ezra's hips were pushing forward, he was panting out loud as that he pumped into the hand torturing him with delight. The fingers inside him were wonderful, he had never felt anything like it before and suddenly, he felt finger tips make contact with something that drove a groan of pure ecstasy from his quivering lips. 

"Oh Jesus!" He bucked forward hard, his mind trapped in delirium over where he wanted to be exactly when the pleasure spot inside him was touched again. He cried out once more, feeling waves upon waves of sensation bombard his senses.

"Come for me." The voice whispered and Ezra knew that he would be obliging as he hips pushed forward and back with equal desire, wanting the hand that held him while needing to impale himself more on the fingers that had kindled a fire inside him. 

"Dear Lord yes!" He cried again and opened his eyes, a new awareness feeling him at the pleasure he felt when suddenly, he noticed a mirror on the wall. Strange how his mind was starting to clear and images beyond the sensations he was feeling became defined when there was only vague fog before. Ezra blinked as he saw himself in the reflection. He was naked on his elbows and knees, appearing obscenely as if he was in prayer. A hand was wrapped around his hardened organ, continuing to stroke him furiously and he saw clearly the face of the person behind him. 

It was Julius.

_Dear God, what was he doing?_

Ezra's screamed inside his mind when clarity return to him with damning realization. However, he had little time to reflect his situation or what he had been doing the past few minutes because something slammed into his back passage with enough force to make him scream without ever realizing the sound had escaped him. It was a guttural cry, finding its origins in the pit of him as he felt himself being filled and the agony of that entry was beyond belief. He almost passed out but his body was not about to give him that respite. He felt hands gripping his shoulders, holding on to prepare for another onslaught of pain.

"Mine Ezra," Julius whispered into his ear as he slammed himself against that beautiful body once more. Focusing entirely on his own pleasure now, Julius dispensed with any further attempts at seduction now that Ezra was fully aware of what was happening to him. Julius smiled at the delicious idea of waiting until Ezra was somewhat lucid before moving the seduction to this level. The gambler would be aware but too weak to fight and that was just how Julius wanted him. After all, this was not just about claiming what was his, Julius thought, this was also about vengeance and he  _wanted_  vengeance.

"Bastard!" Ezra screamed with pain and despair as he felt another powerful thrust tear through him. His mind was starting to shut down from the agony as tears ran down his cheeks.  

However, it subsided for the moment because Julius leaned in close for one more venomous whisper. "Oh Ezra," Julius started to moan. "You do have a sweet ass." 

Ezra could only scream again. 

* * *

Ezra did not know at what point during his ordeal he blacked up but he certainly knew it when he finally regained consciousness. 

He was lying on his stomach and the scent that was so much Julia before was now gone. He could smell something but it was not pleasant. It felt like blood. The memories immediately began to come flooding back into his mind with such force, Ezra could do nothing but endure it. He tried to force the images away, wondering how he could have been so deluded into thinking that it was Julia in this room with him. He had enjoyed it! He had felt lips over his cock and thought it was Julia and no matter how horrible the end result was, he had enjoyed how it felt! His stomach knotted inside of him at the memory that he had begged for more. Ezra closed his eyes and did not even know he was sobbing until his tears soaked into the sheets before him. 

"Oh come now." A voice spoke up. "It wasn't that bad."

Ezra's head snapped up and saw Julius seated a few feet away from him, wearing a long robe while holding a glass of brandy in one hand and a gun in another.  

"You son of a bitch...." Ezra managed to say, movement sent jolts of pain through his body. The lower half of him felt as if it was on fire and he felt all torn inside. "I will kill you for this." 

"That's not what you said during." Julius smiled at the empty threat perfectly aware that Ezra was in no condition to do anything at this moment. "If I recall, you enjoyed yourself immensely." 

"Fuck you!" Ezra swore with uncharacteristic rage, forcing himself out of the bed. Slivers of hot agony shot through him as he attempted to move and a cry of pain escaped him as he crawled off the mattress.

He clutched the sheets to keep his naked form from Julius, needing to maintain some measure of dignity in the face of his unthinkable actions.

"Been there, done that." Julius sneered.

A pained expression crossed Ezra's face that was more than just the injuries sustained from his brutal exchange with Julius, it was the realization that he had been taken. A man did not get taken! The idea was so stomach turning that Ezra could barely stand it. Worst of all, he was in no position to do anything even though Julius was only a few feet away from him, relishing every moment of his torment.  

"I will kill you for this." Ezra said in a low voice, staring at Julius through narrowed eyes. "If it is the last thing I do, I will kill you." 

"Why?" Julius stood up slowly. "Because you enjoyed it?" 

"I enjoyed nothing!" Ezra spat angrily and took a step back, unable to stand the fact that Julius was approaching him. "You drugged me!"  

"You enjoyed it Ezra," Julius continued to smile. "You enjoyed it so much you asked for more. I heard you and I'm sure you remember it too." 

"SHUT UP!" Ezra swore and lunged at him. Julius stepped out of his reach easily and Ezra dropped to his knees, the agony that came from that effort strangled him in half and he gasped in pain as he fell.  

"You may want to get dressed," Julius said dispassionately, returning to his seat.  

"What for?" Ezra hissed. "I would assume you enjoy getting your money's worth."  

Julius chuckled and replied after a moment. "Ezra you were one of the finest I ever had pleasure of keeping company with but my interest in you is dwindling. You were an itch that required scratching and I daresay after your magnificent performance, I consider it well and truly scratched. Unfortunately, I rarely crave the same meal more than once. In other words, I think we're done." 

His words raked at Ezra, drawing blood with each venom filled syllable. His humiliation and despair was beyond expression and he had never thought he could feel more disgusted at what he was and what he had been made to do then at this instant. He wanted to die. God, he actually wanted to die. "So now you're going to kill me?" 

"Kill you?" Julius laughed. "No, it would not serve my purpose and after the pleasure you afforded me, I think I can afford to be a little magnanimous. I'm letting you go." 

"I don't want your mercy!" Ezra snapped angrily. "You let me go and I swear I will hunt you down until the day I die!" 

"The day you die may be sooner than you think," Julius retorted. "But it won't be at my hands and I am letting you go because I would dearly love to see how you're going to fare returning to your friends and telling them that you were released because you were my whore." 

"God!" Ezra gasped at the idea and started retching. He could not stop himself as his stomach emptied itself of its contents and what was worse, he could hear Julius laughing in delight at seeing it all. Ezra wanted to die. Why couldn't Julius just kill him? 

"Or will you tell them at all Ezra?" Julius continued to taunt. "I think not. I think you'll never say a word." 

"It wouldn't matter to them anyway!" Ezra wiped his mouth and stared at Julius defiantly Beads of sweat were running down his body and he knew that he was going to pass out again. The attempt to attack Julius had sent searing waves of agony through the lower half of his body and Ezra knew he was not succeeding in controlling his pain. It was overwhelming him. "They wouldn't care! They are my friends!" 

"Oh sure they won't," Julius retorted. "They won't look at you and wonder if you didn't perhaps ask for what happened to you. I mean you did kiss me once Ezra, I did nothing to inspire it. You did that of your own volition." 

"I was trying to save Mary!" Ezra returned helplessly.  

"Maybe you were and maybe it was always there inside of you." The leader of the Citadel pointed out. 

"No!" Ezra shouted angrily, refusing to think that. "I know what I am and what I am is nothing like you! My friends know that!" It was more of an effort trying to convince himself of that then it was Julius.  

"One thing is for sure Ezra," Julius smiled viciously. "They'll never turn their backs on you again."

* * *

"No one's seen him Chris." JD Dunne announced himself upon entering the saloon where at present, he, Nathan and Buck were preparing to ride. All three men were checking their ordinance for their departure. 

"We'll we've checked everywhere else." Buck sighed unhappily. "He ain't in town."  

Since Chris had sounded the alarm, that's all they had been doing this morning, scouring every known haunt the gambler like to frequent, hoping that someone might have some news as to his whereabouts. What bothered the seven more than Ezra's disappearance was not the fact that he was gone but he had been stolen from them without anyone seeing it. That took skill and skill like that often ensured there was no trail the seven could follow to get him back.

"Someone took him." Nathan said decisively, unable to think of any other explanation for the gambler's disappearance. They had only spoken yesterday evening in this very tavern and Ezra had given no indication of going anywhere. If he was absent now, it was because something completely unexpected had made him that way.  

"Someone?" Julia asked frantically, the lack of positive information playing havoc on her already fragile state of mind.  

Inez frowned at the men present, wishing they could be a little more sensitive to the Emporium owner's present disposition. Inez immediately poured Julia something to drink that was stronger than tea and rounded the bar in order to serve it to her friend.  

"We don't know anything for certain yet, Ezra might have been called away for something urgent that he did not have time to tell us about." Inez declared, trying to put a positive spin on things even though she knew better than anyone that Ezra would not simply up and leave without telling anyone where he was going. He had people in his life that worried about him if he were to disappear and suddenly, the fear that Julia was starting to feel so prolifically started to affect her as well. 

"We'll find him." Chris said firmly and when Chris said it, it was quite possible to feel better because it almost sounded like an inevitability. 

"I don't understand why they would just take him alone." Julia responded, confused. 

It was a good question, Chris thought to himself. They all had made enemies in their checkered pasts. Considering what Ezra used to do prior to meeting them, he more than anyone would have angry marks seeking their pound of flesh for the cons he must have run during his time. However, retaliation for those crimes would be swift. An angry remnant of that past would find it more expedient to simply kill the man and disappear, not take a hostage unless the crime was something so terrible they wanted to make Ezra suffer. Chris could not imagine Ezra running a con that would earn him that kind of death.

"Chris," JD swallowed, trying to think of how to reveal what he had learnt while he had been making his own investigation into Ezra's disappearance. "Miss Belladonna's gone too." 

Chris looked up sharply. "What?"

"She's gone." JD repeated himself since all eyes were now upon him demanding an answer. "I spoke to Mr Heidegger, it seems that Diana up and quit yesterday. Heidegger paid her out in cash and when he went to her room at the hotel, it was all emptied out." 

"Now that can't be a coincidence." Buck stared at Chris. 

"Why?" Julia demanded coming towards Chris. "Why would she take him? He said he told her he didn't want her!" 

"I don't know," Chris confessed putting his hands on her shoulder and trying to calm her down. "But we'll get to the bottom of it." 

"JD," Nathan regarded the younger man now they had something of a lead to follow. "Anyone see her leave town?" 

JD who had came to the same conclusion the minute he had learnt of her disappearance had made the appropriate inquiries in anticipation of the questions Chris and the others would ask of him. "No one." He responded. "She just disappeared." 

"Okay, people just don't disappear." Buck replied. "Especially a woman like that." 

"I hope you mean because she is conspicuous." Inez retorted sharply, giving her husband a look. 

"Of course darling," he said in mock hurt at her believing him capable of thinking anything else. "She's had her eye on Ezra and some women don't take rejection well." 

Chris nodded silently, perfectly aware of what it felt like to be the object of someone's affection and how thin the line between love and hatred could be. Ella Gaines had almost destroyed his life because of her obsession with him. Sarah and Adam had paid the price of her delusion that she and Chris was destined to be something more than what they had been. The question was, is Diana Belladonna the same? She was a duplicitous creature, of that Chris had no doubt but was she insane? Somehow the gunslinger did not believe so. 

"Would she hurt him?" Julia asked fearfully. 

"I don't even know how she managed to get the drop on him." Chris confessed. "Ezra was saying just yesterday that he had a bad feeling about her and it was more than just because she tried to come between you and him."  

"Well we know next to nothing about her." Nathan pointed out. "What we know is what she told us, that she's a singer from the East." 

"Which is nothing really." Buck retorted. "She could have been anyone. Hell she could even work for Laurel Chase."

Chris stiffened at the name. "Laurel wouldn't get a woman to do her dirty work." Chris said after a momentary pause. "Besides, it wouldn't be Ezra she'd come after, it would be me, or Vin or even you Buck. You said she had a thing about you." 

"Yeah," Buck shrugged uncomfortably, hating to admit that the woman scared him but then he was not exactly alone in that feeling because Laurel scared the hell out of all them all. "Okay, someone else. What about Julius?"  

Chris looked at Buck. Hannibal Julius was a possibility. After all, Ezra had stolen Mary right from under his nose. Chris knew that a man like Hannibal Julius would take great offense at that. He might even blame Ezra for the failure of not only his plan to avenge himself on Chris but for the whole plan involving the railroad and its destruction. "That's possible. We ain't heard much about him since he disappeared after that whole business with the railroad." 

"This is just supposition." Julia retorted. "We don't know anything and we're just guessing!" She cried desperately. 

"Julia, we'll find him." Chris said again as her words prompted him into moving. Sliding his Peacemaker into his holster, he watched Buck do the same and Nathan ensuring his own weapon was loaded because it was time to get out there and start searching. 

"I promise you." He said staring into her eyes and realizing why Ezra found the emerald fire burning inside them so terribly mesmerizing. "We won't stop until we do." 

* * *

While her husband was dealing with a crisis of his own, Mary Travis found one brewing inside the confines of her office as Alexandra Styles sat across from her desk. When the lady doctor had arrived in Mary's office expressing a need for advice, Mary had thought it had something to do with being a newly wed. After all, Alex had not been married that long to Vin Tanner and the first few months of any marriage was never as smooth sailing as people would like to think. However, when Alex told her what was actually wrong, Mary almost wished it was a marital problem, not the one she now found herself involved with because of Alex's request for help. 

"Oh God Alex," Mary found herself whisper. "Are you sure?" 

"I'm sure." Alex nodded, wishing it were anything but true. "The tests confirmed it." She had even done them twice, hoping she was not mistaken in any way. Unfortunately, the answer was still the same.

"How is she?" Mary asked, unable to imagine what Casey must be enduring at this moment. That poor child! 

"Shattered." Alex said bluntly, unable to keep bitterness out of her voice. "She's so scared Mary. I can't stand seeing her like this." 

"Does JD know?" Mary asked and then realised that Casey was probably too terrified to tell JD about what she now carried inside her body. 

Alex shook her head. "She couldn't even tell Nettie. She came to me yesterday and it was the first time she confided to anyone about it. I promised her I wouldn't tell but I can't make this decision on my own." 

Mary wrinkled her brow in confusion. "What decision? Its Casey's to make." 

"Casey can't go through this." Alex met her eyes. "She said so. She's been through hell already because of that bastard Blackwood, I can't believe God would want her to go through having his baby either." 

Mary started to understand. "Has she spoken about getting rid of it?"  

"No," Alex answered quickly, "not at all. I doubt the thought has even occurred to her but I do think that killing herself has." 

"Oh no!" Mary gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Are you sure?" 

"She's barely twenty Mary," Alex declared. "She's facing an unimaginable situation. What else would her options be other than having it?" 

Mary slumped into her chair. "She doesn't have to keep it." Mary pointed out. 

"No she doesn't," Alex agreed. "But she would have to leave and JD will want to know why. We can get around the town knowing but we won't be able to get around JD and that's what terrifies her the most." 

"He loves her," Mary insisted. "It wouldn't matter to him." 

"We don't know that for sure." Alex retorted, "if you were his age and your fiancée tells you that she's having a child that is your brother? How is he supposed to handle that? He barely was able to handle the fact that an animal like Blackwood could be related to him at all."  

"Damn that man," Mary swore burying her face in her hands, understanding completely why Alex needed to talk to her. This was too much for one person to bear. She could not even imagine how Casey was coping with it. "Damn him to hell for what he's done." 

"Unfortunately, he's going to take Casey there first." Alex responded. "Unless I do something." 

Mary raised her eyes. "Do something? Like what." 

Alex rose to her feet. "I could perform a therapeutic abortion." 

Mary's eyes widened in shock. "You could also lose your license and go to jail!"

"I know that!" Alex returned sharply. "Don't you think I know that but my freedom is not even the issue here. The issue is whether or not this is right. I don't care what the law says, I mean morally and ethically, is it right? I don't even want to offer this to her in case she decides to take me up on it!" 

"Do you know how to do it?" Mary asked, a little horrified by the whole subject. She knew of the places that did such things, the filthy back alleys and creepy little men that performed such operations, who often ended up killing their patients instead of offering salvation.  

"I know how to do it." Alex said shortly. "It's rather simple actually. Wouldn't take any more than an hour. She's be on her feet in no more than a day. The irony of it is, done properly, she can have even children in the future." 

"A perfect solution." Mary replied neutrally.

 "Hardly." Alex declared, her voice shaking. "I'll be giving her a solution but the fact is, I don't know whether I have the right to give her this choice." 

"The bible says one life shouldn't be sacrificed for another." Mary responded, hoping that was some kind of answer even though in saying it, felt wrong somehow.

"Spare me  _that_  of all things!" Alex exclaimed. "Its not even life at this stage. It's a collection of cells that has the possibility of sentience. It will grow into a baby but its not one yet!" 

"That's not how the law sees it." Mary returned. 

"The law are not composed of doctors and scientists who have studied life," Alex shot back. "They are made up of men who are subject to the will of pious puritans who don't give a damn about the rights of the mother or the child, just their God!" 

"Alex its okay," Mary said softly, understanding the source of her anger was her helplessness at having this terrible burden fall upon her alone. "I know you're trying to do what's right and I can't say anything that will make this easier for you. I wish I could." 

"I look at Casey, at this child. She's a baby herself. She's so scared and it's not because of what the town will say or the fact that she'll be ruined publicly by the pregnancy, it's the idea of carrying  _his_  child. As if it wasn't enough that he had to rape her but he had to leave a reminder of himself behind, something that would follow her forever."

 "It's a child." Mary reminded. "A child who had no wish to be born. JD came into the world the same way I imagine, thanks to what Blackwood probably did to this mother." 

"I wish it was that easy for me," Alex whispered, lowering herself into her chair as she covered her face in her hands. "I wish I could make an arbitrary decision and live with it but I can't. If she were someone I didn't know or didn't care about, it would be easy but she's Casey. She and Nettie are the closest thing Vin has ever had to family and by extension they are that to me. I can't sit by and let her go through this when I have it within my power to save her from all that pain." 

Mary listened to Alex and once again felt grateful that this choice was not hers to make. "I know and maybe that makes it why you should be the one to decide, because you know how hard a decision it is." 

"I have no idea how it's going to effect her mentally," Alex confessed. "I'll make the immediate problem vanish but the reality of it being gone is something she'll have to deal with alone. I may perform the abortion but can she live with consenting to it?" 

"Maybe it comes down to you asking her." Mary responded, offering the only solution that made sense at this time.

 "I have to know whether I can do this first," Alex sighed. "I don't know whether I can."  

"You know you can," the newspaperwoman stared her straight in the eye. "You wouldn't be tying yourself into knots like this if you didn't think you could."

"Oh I can do that procedure but I don't know if I can live with it any better than Casey will when it's over." Alex replied. "I don't know that at all."

* * *

In all truth, had Diana Belladonna known what fate lay waiting for Ezra Standish when she delivered him to Hannibal Julius, it was all together possible that she might not have undertaken the task. While she told herself this, she knew deep down inside that she had little choice in the matter. While Julius called her an employee, it was closer to the truth that she was in fact a disciple rather than a salaried worker. Although most people looked at Diana Belladonna and saw a white woman, refined and cultured with an Eastern accent that bespoke a fancy school and education, it was an illusion like the rest of her.  

Belladonna was her stage name and it served. She hardly remembered her real name, other than the fact that it was Native American in origin. Apache to be exact. Her mother had been Apache. Her father whomever he had been, was white. His last act on this earth prior to dying was raping the woman who would be her mother. She had been born an act of violence, an uncomfortable representation of two worlds and belonged to neither. Diana was no mercenary. She was a patriot. What she did for Julius was for the purpose of laying the foundation of a new Apache nation as Julius promised would happen once his coup was carried out successfully. For that end, she was willing to serve him in any way possible.  

She did not realise that serving him would require her to be a party to an act as abominable as the one that had seen her birth.  

She had heard the screams. She doubted there was anyone who had not heard the cry torn from the southerner's lips when he was finally taken. A wave of sympathy hit her as she heard that tortured scream and suddenly, her cause felt hollow because she had admired him in her own way. Despite everything she had tried to do to come between them, Ezra Standish had stuck steadfastly to the side of Julia Pemberton. Diana could not help feel a little overcome by the strength of his love for the titian haired beauty. Gaining his attention had been a job to her, nothing more. She did not love the man but respected his loyalty to the woman he loved. Such loyalty was rare. 

Now she found herself invited into the room where Julius had taken everything that made Ezra Standish what he was and destroyed it. What did Julius want her to see? Was it bad enough that she had heard?  

"Diana," Julius said smugly as she entered the room. 

"Mr Julius." Diana responded evenly, her eyes fixed upon him even though her curiosity was drawn to Ezra. 

Julius was dressed now and he regarded Ezra the way a man might regard a young woman he might have taken and was now finished with. Unfortunately, Diana knew what that felt like too. "I am finished with Mr Standish for now." He regarded the unconscious man on the floor.

Diana felt her innards hollow when she saw the gambler lying face down, naked except for the sheet that was draped over himself. His skin was pale and covered in sweat. There was blood on the sheet and Diana knew that without cooperation, what Julius had done to him had the power to do significant internal damage. She hardened herself to the image, not wishing to see this because the guilt stabbed at her more than she liked.

 "What do you want done with him?" She asked quietly. She expected him to be killed. In his state and after what Julius had done to him, it might even be a mercy.

"I want you to get him dressed," Julius said hardly glancing at the gambler. "Get him dressed and have Kitson return him to Four Corners."

Diana looked up at Julius in astonishment. "You're letting him go?" 

"Yes," Julius responded a little taken by her surprise. "I have no further use of him now." 

"I know but he has seen you," she pointed out, wondering if he was playing tricks on her. Julius did have a twisted sense of humor. She had learnt that much since coming into his service.  

"So?" Julius asked, looking at Ezra for the first time. "I seriously doubt he'll be telling his friends under what circumstances we met and he has no idea where this place is, nor will it be of any consequence by the time he is returned to Four Corners. Once Kitson takes him from here, we'll be moving out. I have appointments to keep. We're moving into the next phase of our operation." 

"I see." Diana nodded understanding, finally seeing the full facet of Julius' vengeance on Ezra Standish. She took an unsteady step forward, somewhat staggered by the cruelty of the man's scheme and searched the room for Ezra's clothes. "He's not going to be in any shape to ride." 

"All the better," Julius said with a little smile. "I should like to see him explain his injuries when he is returned to his friends. I'm sure it will make for some colorful story telling."

 _You bastard_ , Diana found herself thinking inwardly. Wasn't it enough to destroy everything inside him that made him a man? Was it also necessary to force him to humiliate himself in front of his friends and his fiancée as well? Once again, Diana reminded herself that she was a soldier in a cause greater than just Julius' sexual gratification. This was about the Citadel or for Julius, this was not even for herself but rather for her people and the dedication to her cause forced her to remain silent. "I'm sure it would." 

Julius looked at him. "You're not enamoured by our Mr Standish are you?" 

"Of course not." Diana returned tautly. 

"I warn you," Julius met her gaze directly. "The only thing he could love more than Julia Pemberton is the six men he rides with. There is no room for you." 

"I do not have any feelings for him." Diana retorted, grabbing Ezra's clothes from the chair on which it was piled. "That is your curse." 

"You give as good as you get," Julius smiled, conceding that on this point she had served the winning remark. "I admit, I do have an appreciation for Mr Standish and taking him was most enjoyable but he is of more use to me being a source of his friends' outrage at my treatment of him." 

Diana lowered herself onto her knees and started to pull away the sheet. Ezra was still unconscious but he was shaking and his skin was pasty to the touch. He was in some kind of shock she was certain and knew that he needed a doctor immediately. He was still bleeding and Diana could only imagine what internal damage had been done to him. She forced herself to remain indifferent to his plight because Julius letting him go was the best thing for him right now, no matter how Ezra may wish it otherwise. He needed to get help fast and at least away from Julius, the leader of the Citadel might not be tempted into using him again. 

She dressed him quietly under Julius' gaze. Ezra was hardly aware of her touch but even in his unconscious state, the effects of what was done to him was evident. He was shivering and Diana had to fight to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks when she pulled his pants over his rear and saw the material become soiled in blood. He muttered when she brushed wet hair out of his face.  

"Julia." He whimpered and broke Diana's heart with the sorrow and despair in his incoherent voice.  

Julius had stepped out of the room and had summoned Kitson to come help her. Diana was almost glad when she saw the lackey enter the room. Kitson's eyes move through the room before resting on Ezra and then on the bloody sheet that Diana had pulled away from him. Kitson's expression was unreadable but when Diana's eyes made contact with him, she sensed that he was not as comfortable with Julius' actions either.

Julius seemed to notice the exchange and said firmly. "In ancient times, it was the prerogative of the Roman commander to completely destroy an enemy by taking him in this manner. Trust me," he said with a cruel sneer. "This man will trouble us no more from this day." 

Diana stared at Ezra briefly and knew with absolute certainty, he was  _wrong_. 

 


	4. A Man's World

 

He woke up to pain.

It moved through him in uneven jolts and it was a few seconds before Ezra Standish was able to register in his mind that it was moving in time to the pace of the horse he was presently astride. He had no idea how he had made it this far but was glad he was not been coherent enough for it. Ezra opened his eyes and thought he might be dreaming for a moment because under the fading light of day, he could see Four Corners in the distance. The sun was slowly sinking into an amber sea in the horizon, trailed closely by a translucent indigo canopy through which one could see the faint glimmer of the approaching night. 

He tried straightening up in the saddle and felt another wrenching pain that started from his lower back and culminated in his stomach. The pain was so intense it tore a gasp of pain from him before he could stop himself. For a few seconds, he remained frozen in place; not daring to move even though the progress of the animal he was currently riding ensured that he felt every step it took. Ezra’s breaths escaped him in short, shallow bursts as he tried to control the agony coursing through his body in relentless waves. Perspiration covered his skin and plastered his shirt to his body like a stifling sheath of canvas. He could feel the heat under his skin and knew that it was more than just the weather and his clothes making his swelter this way, he was feverish.

For a moment, he was at a loss of what to do. With Four Corner approaching closer with every passing moment, he began to panic, an action that was almost unheard of for him. He could not tell the others what happened to him. He just could not bear that. He could not stand the looks they would give him, the doubts that would form in their mind when they saw nary a mark on him other than the internal injuries he suffered. Julius was right; they would never see him in quite the same way again. It had taken them long enough to see past his con man façade to believe that he was one of them, not prone to run away at the first sight of trouble or at the first sniff of cash. Ezra did not think he could bear the look in their eyes if they knew about this too. It would be almost as bad as knowing that Julius had taken him and then discarded him like a strumpet in the night. His horror and humiliation were bad enough for Ezra to desire being spared that. 

Yet he had to be realistic.

He was hurt and badly by the amount of slick stickiness he could feel in the part of him violated so brutally by Julius. He needed medical attention before this fever, no doubt the probable cause being some infection that had sparked because of his injuries, ravaged him to severely and he was unable to control the situation that had been forced upon him. The idea of going to Alex was out of the question, she simply would not understand the need for secrecy, not to mention the fact that she would have no idea how it felt to be a man and to have this done to him. No, Alex was not a good proposition at all.

It would have to be Nathan. 

Nathan was a man of his word. If Ezra made him promise, he would say nothing. Nathan’s opinion of him was not stellar anyway and if his assault lowered Ezra’s standing in his eyes, it was something the gambler could live with. Besides, if he returned home first and took care of a few things, there was no reason for the healer to suspect what he had been through. Perhaps he would have his suspicions but he would not voice them without good reason. Nathan could be annoyingly self-righteous at time but the healer was not a man who accused others falsely without a good deal of evidence to support his assumptions.  

Ezra wondered how long he had been riding on his own. He looked behind his shoulder and saw no one in the distance. No doubt one of Julius men had escorted him to Four Corners as far as possible before allowing the horse to continue onward alone. Horses could sense it when there were others of their own in close proximity and would generally head towards them because of some ingrained herd mentality that continued to survive despite domestication. He pressed his heels deeper into the flank of his mount and made the animal trot faster forward. The action was one he soon regretted because each step sent stabbing pain through his body until Ezra was almost on the verge of passing out.

Since that would not at all do, he pulled the reins with his trembling hands and made the animal return to its languid pace.

It took twice as long to return to Four Corners but the time spent in the endeavor proved useful because when he arrived in town, dusk had truly come and gone. Instead of going to the livery, he proceeded instead to his lodgings, hoping that no one saw him until he was able to return to his room and clean up. He had no intention of being seen bloodied and sore, not until he was ready anyway. Hopefully, Chris and the others would be searching for him and were not back in town yet. He prayed for his continued anonymity for the time being. The horse he had returned on was one provided by Julius so no one recognized it as his own when he tethered it to the hitching post. Had he been riding Chaucer, they would have known immediately that he was back and Ezra could not face that at this moment. 

Entering the lodging house quietly, his movements were slow and deliberate. Fortunately, Mrs. Satler would be busy preparing supper for her tenants so he was able to make his way to his room without being seen. Each step was a new experience in pain and he had to fight to stay conscious. His head was swimming with dizziness and his stomach lurched periodically with bouts of nausea. Climbing up the stairs had almost made him give up the entire notion of going to his room and was a convincing argument about staying put on the staircase for the next month at least. Unfortunately, he did not have the luxury of choice and so he forced himself the top of the staircase, his fingers almost leaving indentations on the banister because he was clutching it so hard to stay upright. 

After what seemed like forever, he finally made it to his door. Fumbling through his pockets, grateful to find that his room key was still where it should be. His hands were shaking as he pushed the brass key into its slot and opened the door. Ezra almost fell in when he pushed it open and stumbled slightly past the doorway as his legs threatened to give out. He entered the room and quickly closed the door behind him, locking it from the inside before allowing the key to fall from his hand. The first thing he did was to collapse on his feather bed, allowing the soft mattress to caress his ravaged body with the first tender touch he had experienced since this had all began. What remained of his strength, bled right out of him and he was content to lie there for a time to rest. 

As much as he wanted to go to sleep, he knew he could not. He could not risk the others finding him this way and he was forced to leave his bed once more. Ezra stripped out of his soiled clothes, the trousers in particular had the stain of blood and Ezra quickly shoved them under his bed, until he could think of a more permanent solution. He filled the washbasin with water and started cleaning himself of the blood, sweat and dirt accumulated during the last 24 hours. He could not even bring himself to think that there might be other fluids on his skin that was a result of the attack. That was too much for him in his present state of mind.  

He began toweling himself off gently at first, careful not to aggravate his injuries any more than necessary. Most of the pain was center on the lower half of his body and as Ezra looked at himself in the mirror of the dressing table, he noted that there were no other marks on him other than the bruising on his hips. They were bruises left by Julius when he had been holding onto Ezra and the memory of Julius kneeling behind him returned with such powerful clarity that the gambler almost gagged there and then. He forced the terrible image away and resumed what he was doing, removing all traces of blood until his skin revealed no signs of violence. Ezra stared at himself again, feeling unsatisfied by that because he still did not feel clean. He continued to run the washcloth over his skin until his skin started to hurt and turn a shade of red. 

Not clean. Not ever. 

It made no sense but the words repeated itself in his head.  

 _Never. Never. Never._  

When Nicholas Serfonteine and his Klansmen had attacked him with a whip, Ezra had suffered his injuries with the knowledge that what he did saved Alexandra Styles’ life. Later on, when he had been a victim of Isis and forced to endure tortures by Sekhmet, he had done so knowing that the creature Sekhmethad been insane. What had been done to him was the madness inspired by a thousand years of imprisonment and once again, he had never felt like this even though the effects of what happened stayed with him for a time.  

This was entirely different.  

He had been responsible. He had inspired Julius’ attraction to him in order to learn more about the Citadel. He had brought this upon himself no matter how much he hated to believe that it could be true. It was not Julius fault that the man was a slave to his feelings when Ezra had given him every indication of reciprocating prior to the assault. Ezra forced the images of what he had seen in that mirror in that moment of clarity before everything that made any sense to his world was destroyed in a single powerful thrust 

"You son of a bitch!" He screamed and smashed his fist through the glass. The pain felt good as it seared through his hand and knuckles because for one instant he did not have to feel the other pain that was coursing through his body. He stood there for a second, his hand bleeding, drops of blood on the floor, staring at himself and unable to explain why he could not stand looking at his reflection.  

"You didn’t have to do that to me!" He shouted angrily, his voice cracking. By the time he had repeated himself, he was sobbing and a few moments passed as Ezra felt his tears come freely. The pain in his hand had dulled to a far away sting and Ezra composed himself before cleaning his knuckles of more blood. He did not look at the broken mirror again. Instead, he got dressed quietly, putting on fresh clothes and yet feelings still as soiled as when he had first stepped into the room. The pain in his body had not lessened one wit and the fever that had him in its grip was still as prolific. His flesh felt as if it were simmering under his skin and knew that he had better get to Nathan soon.

 While he could still stand. 

* * *

Nathan Jackson had returned to town about half an hour before Ezra Standish had made his silent return to Four Corners. Their search for the gambler had been met with little success and the group was particularly gloomy. The thought of what might be happening to one of their number because of their failure preyed heavily upon all their minds. Chris in particular, seemed to take it the hardest because he was required to explain to Julia that they had come up empty. The gunslinger had gone to the Standish Saloon first and downed himself a stiff drink before he was capable of carrying out the task. Nathan did not envy him in the slightest. They had all shared a drink in the saloon; their chatter silent because there did not seem anything worth talking about that could alleviate their somber mood. Finally they had scattered because Chris was determined to resume their search the next morning at first light and it was a plan they all agreed with wholeheartedly. When one of them was missing , they all felt incomplete somehow even though they were all men who were used to being alone.  

Nathan returned to his Infirmary after parting ways with the others. He was tired and dusty and looked forward to getting cleaned up. Rain had promised to come by later with some supper so he wanted to be partially civilized for her when she arrived. Nathan rounded the corner of the hardware store above which his clinic was situated and immediately stopped short when he saw Ezra leaning against the side of the stairs that led to set of rooms he occupied. The gambler appeared as if he was collecting his strength and Nathan need only see the glimmer of moonlight off his moist skin to know that the man was not well.

"Ezra! Where have you been?" Nathan called out, forgetting how tired he was as his healer’s instincts kicked in and he was striding quickly towards the gambler. Upon reaching him, Nathan immediately put his hand on Ezra’s elbow only to have the gambler yank it away viciously.

For a moment, Nathan did not know what to say in the face of that startling action. Ezra’s eyes clouded over in a mixture of revulsion and horror that disappeared almost as soon as he had pulled away.  

"Forgive me Mr Jackson," Ezra said quietly, scolding inwardly himself for his over reaction. "It’s been a long night."

"No kidding," Nathan shook of the incident as Ezra began climbing up the stairs again. This time Nathan did not offer to help. "Where were you?" Nathan asked instead. "We’ve been tearing the country side looking for you." 

"I was accosted by some associates of mine prior to my arrival in Four Corners. Apparently, one of them had some grievance with me over a straight flush and happened to hear in Purgatory that I resided in these parts. They kidnapped me last evening and attempted to string me up but fortunately," Ezra flashed Nathan a little smile. "I managed to talk them out of it."

"Not without getting hurt," Nathan retorted, unable to believe that story for some reason. "What happened to you?"

"While I was convincing them to let me go I took a tumble from the steed I chose as the mode of my escape." Ezra explained as he reached the top of the stairs and let out a sigh of relief at that particular ordeal being over. I think I may have injured my lower back considerably."

"I see," Nathan frowned and watched the ginger way Ezra was proceeding to know that such a thing was possible. However, the way Ezra had pulled away when he touched him earlier resurfaced and nagged at the healer for some reason. "Well let’s get a look at you and make sure. You look to me like you have some kind of a fever." 

Gingerly, he put his hand on Ezra’s forehead and noticed the twitch in the gambler’s normally imperceptible façade. It was almost as if Ezra did not want Nathan anywhere near him. Once again, Nathan was revisited by the feelings of their first meeting, when Ezra considered him nothing more than a colored ex-slave. Nathan fought the notion of believing the worst because they had been through too much in the last three years to make Nathan believe that Ezra had reverted to type.

"You’re running a fever." Nathan responded after a moment.

"Perhaps there is some kind of a potion you could give me and call it a day? I am in enough pain to endure a medical examination as well." Ezra replied tautly. 

"I’ll try not to hurt you," Nathan retorted. "I just want a quick see." There was no way Nathan was letting Ezra out of his sight without examining. A fall from a horse was a serious injury indeed and while Ezra had given him no specifics, just seeing the way he moved told the healer that he had been hurt badly. It seemed like every step was agony and the way he way burning up gave Nathan real fears that there might be some internal bruising that had become infected. In this environment, infection was almost as bad as the injury itself and could kill a man if left unchecked.

"A very quick see," Ezra replied.

They reached the infirmary and Nathan opened the door, directing Ezra to the examination table. He pretended to hang up his coat and not notice the way Ezra simply recoiled at the idea of being examined. Nathan was starting to get very confused but amongst that lack of understanding there was an instinct of something dark and terrible, preparing to surface. Nathan lit the lamps in the room and flooded the space with light. When he turned around, he tried to hide his shock at how bad Ezra actually looked now that the room was properly illuminated. He was not merely feverish but pale and he was trembling though he was trying very hard to hide it.

"Goddamn Ezra," Nathan came forward immediately. "Get your shirt off I want to see if you’ve got any bruising when you fell. There might be some internal bleeding." 

There was almost certainly internal bleeding, Ezra thought to himself but he was not about to impart how he knew that so absolutely. If Nathan believed it was from a fall then Ezra was not going to convince him of it other wise.

"Is that necessary?" Ezra asked making a halfhearted effort to pull off his dark coat.

"Damn sure its necessary. You could die." Nathan pointed out coming towards him.

Ezra opened to say something but never quite managed to get it out, instead, he continued removing his jacket and then his shirt. Something in his face made Nathan extremely cautious about handling him in any way. His body was just as pale as his face and under the light of lamp; Nathan spotted immediately the bruises on his hip. They did not seem very severe other than superficial but Ezra was clearly suffering from something. Ezra saw on the examination table, refusing to even lie down flat even though it was necessary for Nathan to do so. It was only after Nathan had made mention of it that he obeyed somewhat reluctantly.  

What was he hiding? Nathan asked himself. 

"Does that hurt?" He asked Ezra as he made an exploratory probe of the gambler’s lower back. Just pressing lightly against the skin drew a sharp cry of pain. 

"What kind of pain?" Nathan asked. 

"Burning." Ezra said quietly. 

Nathan paused and moved his hand lover along Ezra’s spine. He immediately noted the tension in the gambler’s muscles and questioned the sensibility of going any further. Ezra was like a spring about to snap. Nathan caught sight of his hands and felt his jaw drop in astonishment when he saw Ezra’s nails digging so hard into his palms that there was actually blood. He made a few more perfunctory probes before Nathan finally withdrew.

"Alright, cut the bullshit, what happened to you?" Nathan demanded. 

Ezra climbed off the bed abruptly. "I told you I fell." Ezra retorted, quickly reaching for his clothes. This was such a mistake! He should have gotten on a horse and ridden to Bitter Creek or Sweet Water for treatment. It was foolishness to try and think that Nathan would simply not notice.

"Like hell you did!" Nathan barked back. "Your injuries are not consistent with a fall. Now Goddamn it, what do I have to do to get you to tell me the truth! You know it won’t go further than this room!"  

"I SAID I FELL!" Ezra insisted just as fiercely. He gripped the table for support because he was having trouble seeing. It felt as if his brain was boiling inside his skull.

 "I can’t help you if you don’t tell me! Ezra, I need to know exactly how you were hurt." Nathan pleaded, sensing something awful and feeling helpless because he had no idea how to treat it or to help his friend. 

Ezra was not listening. The gambler was steadfastly dressing himself and more than prepared to ride out of town to seek medical help if necessary. What had he been thinking coming to Nathan in the first place? "I am fine. If you do not wish to help me without these questions about my ordeal, then I will go elsewhere to find it."

"Ezra…" Nathan reached for him to stop him.

 Ezra’s reaction was extreme.

 "Get your hands off me!" He fairly shouted and caught Nathan’s hand before it could make contact with him. His other hand swung in a balled fist, stopping inches from connecting with Nathan’s jaw. For a moment, time seem to freeze as both men stared at each other still locked in each other’s grip. Nathan’s face mostly registered shock while Ezra’s was unfathomable and it was during those few seconds when Nathan looked into Ezra’s eyes and saw the man’s psyche hanging on the barest threads of tolerance did he understand. 

"I’m sorry." Nathan disengaged himself from Ezra’s grip and took a step back. "I’ll give you something you can take. It should kill the infection before it gets any worse." The healer said sedately and then added, recalling the cuts he had seen on the fist that had almost struck him. "Le me fix your hand before you go." 

Although he did not say it, Ezra could tell what Nathan suspected. "Do I have your word of honor that as far as you are concerned, I fell?"

 "Yes." Nathan nodded slowly. "You fell." 

"Good." Ezra nodded.  

"Ezra, it isn’t your fault…." He started to say. 

"Exactly what isn’t my fault?" Ezra glared at him. "The fact that I could do nothing to stop it? The fact that I had to just take it or that none of my so called friend were there to prevent this thing from happening?" 

"Ezra, that ain’t fair." Nathan spoke up but his words sounded weak and he did not know whether Ezra was entirely wrong. They should have been there. To prevent what Nathan suspected had happened to him, they had to be there and yet they weren’t. "We had no idea you were even taken until morning. If we had…" 

"It would not have made much difference." Ezra muttered and decided he had no wish to speak of this any further. He was sick and he could barely remain standing, he wanted to go to bed and forget this day ever happened. 

"Who?" Nathan asked. 

"Does it matter?" Ezra stared at him. "It didn’t happen."

"Ezra," Nathan exhaled loudly, not wanting to leave it at just that. They needed to talk about this. Not just because Ezra was behaving as if he had somehow invited this horror upon himself but also because hurt like this had a tendency of showing on a person eventually. It was showing on Ezra already and Nathan did not want it to get any worse.  

"I do not wish to discuss it Nathan." Ezra repeated himself. "Not now, not _ever_." 

Nathan nodded reluctantly, allowing the man his dignity by not pressing any further on this issue.  

"Well," he let out a sigh as if it were possible to dispel the subject that easily. "I should look at your hand," Nathan continued as he gathered the things he would need to put a dressing of some kind on Ezra's torn knuckles. It was unlikely that he could do much for Ezra's other injuries now that he realised what had caused them. Fortunately, the internal injuries he suspected was most likely some form of bleeding caused by internal abrasions or lacerations if one could call that some consolation. The most that he could do was try and prevent infection and to advise that the gambler get some rest. In the face of what the man had endured, that advice seemed paltry. 

They did not speak for a while as Nathan put a dressing on Ezra's hand even though there were so many things he wanted to ask his friend, so many things he wished to say to tell Ezra that what happened was not his fault. However, Nathan understood that it was too soon for all that. Right now, Ezra was too raw to be able to accept anything other than his own despair. He worked silently on Ezra, while thoughts ran through his mind of what he ought to be doing. He should tell Chris about this but discarded the thought almost immediately. There was no telling what Ezra would do in his present state of mind if word got out. 

It was not the first time Nathan had ever heard of this type of atrocity. When he was back on the plantation, a place where human ugliness seemed to breed prolifically, he had seen boys and men subjected to such abuse. A master who wanted to see the complete and utter destruction in a particularly proud young male slave would often employ such methods and a group usually delivered it. The perpetrators were men who enjoyed women, who were by definition heterosexual but the point of the entire exercise was not about the sex but about power. To take a man was to utterly destroy everything about him that was masculine. That was a formidable weapon. The men he knew who had endured this hell killed themselves rather than face the shame of anyone knowing and right now, the look in Ezra's eyes was too close to what Nathan remembered for him to risk doing anything remotely like telling Chris Larabee what he had discovered.  

"I'll tell Chris that you had a bad fall and that you'll be in bed for the next few days." Nathan spoke up when he was done. "You should do that. I'll bring you some medicine to drink once I'm done brewing it here. It will help with the fever. Do you want something for the pain?" 

"No," Ezra shook his head unable to meet the healer's eyes, feeling this incredible feeling of shame and wishing that he was well enough to ride out of here forever because right now, that seemed the only way he could endure this nightmare. "I do not wish to fall into any sleep I cannot awaken." He confessed.

"Ezra, is there anything else I can do?" Nathan asked telling himself then and there that he would not be leaving the gambler's side for the next few days. 

"If you could please keep Mr Larabee and the others away from me for a day, I would appreciate it." Ezra found himself asking.

 "Ezra, what about Julia?" Nathan inquired. Telling the others that Ezra wanted some privacy and bed rest would be easy to do when it came to the seven but with Julia, that was another thing entirely. Ezra's sickness would only make her want to take care of him and somehow, Nathan suspected that the gambler was not entirely up to dealing with his fiancée just yet.

"I would not be so cowardly as to leave  _that_  in your hands," Ezra met his gaze and tried to produce a smile. He failed. "I will deal with Julia myself." 

"If you're sure," Nathan answered, surprising himself because he would have done it for Ezra if he had to, he would have thought up something to tell Julia. "I could do it if you needed me to." 

Ezra held his stare for a moment and said in a strangely sober voice. "You would, wouldn't you?

"You're my friend Ezra," Nathan swallowed. "It's the least I can do for you."

Ezra said nothing for a few seconds but the emotion welling up in his eyes spoke volumes. The facade came down completely as his eyes glistened and he stared at something Nathan could not see. "Why did he do this to me?" Ezra whispered. "Why couldn't he just kill me?" 

"Who?" Nathan asked wanting to do something but was barred by convention, by traditions of how men were supposed to treat each other and what fathers told sons about being a man. Sometimes, those basic teachings had the power to do so much damage.

The question shattered the moment and whatever vulnerability faded into view disappeared again and all that was left behind was that same mask Nathan had seen on the southerner since they had first met, hiding everything he was from those who cared most about him. "I should be retiring." Ezra answered after a moment. "This day has gone all together too long for my liking."

 "Do you need any help getting there?" The healer inquired.

Under normal circumstances, he would not even let Ezra leave but he had a feeling if he tried making the gambler do anything he did not wish to do, the man would shoot him without hesitation. He could not even offer to help Ezra because it was obvious the southerner could not bear anyone touching him. Just the way he had reacted to Nathan’s earlier examination was proof of that. The memory of his nails digging into his palms was something Nathan doubted he would forget any time soon. While he respected Ezra’s desire to remain silent about his ‘situation’, Nathan wanted very much to get his hands on the son of a bitch who would do something so vile to another man.  

"Yes I can." Ezra nodded and then added in a softer voice. "Thank you Nathan."

 "Anytime Ezra," Nathan replied with just as much emotion. "Any time."

* * *

Nathan did not know how long he waited until Ezra had gone before he left the infirmary and strode towards the Larabee household in order to tell Chris that Ezra had been found. As he journeyed there, he recited what he would say to the gunslinger and the manner in which he would deliver the news. Nathan knew he had to be absolutely convincing because if he were not, Chris Larabee would spot it almost immediately. There was not much that got past the gunslinger's high-powered perception and a lie from one of his close friends would definitely be noticed, not to mention the demand to know why.  

Ezra was adamant about no one learning what had happened to him and Nathan had to respect that, not only because the humiliation would be more than the gambler could stand but rather because Nathan had real concerns that he might hurt himself if the truth were to get out. Although he was fortunate to have been spared such degradation during his years on the plantation, Nathan remembered what it was like for those who did not. Most committed suicide at the prospect of repeated abuses, while some became violent and abusers themselves. For others, the one experience was enough and Nathan had remembered the bodies of friends who had ended their lives because they could not bear the stain upon their masculinity. 

Nathan was not going to allow Ezra to go that way even if it meant lying to Chris Larabee. 

Nathan reached the back porch of the Larabee home and rapped lightly on the door. It was well past supper so he hoped he was not waking up anyone, particularly Chris' young sons. However, Nathan also knew that he would want to be told immediately about Ezra and so the healer did not hesitate as he waited for an answer. A few seconds passed before the door swung open and Chris stepped out. His face displayed an expectation of trouble or some serious issue because he knew Nathan would not arrive at this hour without good reason. 

"Nate?" Chris asked smoothly but his voice was taut. "What's up?" 

"Ezra's back." Nathan responded automatically. 

"Back?" Chris' expression was a mixture of relief and suspicion all at one. "Where the hell was he?" 

Nathan explained quickly, aware that hesitation would be spotted easily by the astute former gunslinger. "Apparently some old friends of his caught up with him last night. They were passing through Purgatory and found out he lived in Four Corners." 

Chris stared at Nathan for a moment and then responded. "I take this ain't the kind of friends you want who would take no for an answer."

"Exactly the kind. They tried to string him up but you know Ez, he manage to slither out of it." Nathan continued his rehearsed speech hoping it was not too obvious a lie for Chris to detect.  

"Is he alright?" Chris asked.

 "He took a fall off the horse he stole while he was trying to get away," the healer replied trying to sound as matter of fact as possible. "He's a little banged up inside and he's running a fever but he's okay. I saw him to his room and I'll be going to his place in a while and check up on him. I don't think there's any reason to bother him until then. He looks like he needs the rest for tonight at least. I thought you might want to tell Julia." 

"I do," Chris responded, remembering how despaired the lady had been about their lack of success in finding her fiancée. "It will be a load off her mind. I'm gonna go tell her now, you coming or do you want go and check up on Ezra like you said." Chris asked. 

"I might go check up on Ezra," Nathan said quickly, having no desire to face Julia, remembering what Ezra had said about handling the lady himself. "If you like, I'll go tell the others." 

Buck Wilmington and his family were currently residing in the rooms above the Standish Tavern while the rebuilding of his home, destroyed from a fire last month, continued and JD had a room in one of the lodging houses in

"I don't think Vin and Josiah are back in town yet but I'd appreciate it if you told the others." Chris replied, still staring at Nathan.  

"No problem," Nathan nodded. "I best be going." He started to pull away. 

"Nathan," Chris called out suddenly, almost on impulse. "You alright?"  

"Yeah," Nathan replied quickly, cursing himself for not lying better but then Chris was a master at spotting those and the healer did not make a habit of speaking untruths to be particularly practiced at it. "I'm just worried about Ezra. Internal bleedings hard to get a hold on."

"Maybe you ought to see if Alex can do something for him," Chris suggested. 

"That's okay," he shrugged off the suggestion, knowing that Ezra would certainly not want Alex involved in all this. "I think I can handle it on my own. I'll leave you to it." Nathan declared finally and stepped off the porch.

Chris watched him disappear into the darkness, feeling something nag at the back of his mind about Nathan's manner. Of all the members of the seven, Nathan was the one of the group other than JD who did not have some pre-existing chip on his shoulder. Nathan had learnt to deal with things the old fashioned way, head on and with as little bullshit as possible. It was the quality Chris liked the most about him because one could also depend on the healer, to always play it straight down the line. Chris sometimes wondered if Nathan was capable of lying and told himself that what he suspected was not that; Nathan would not lie to him no matter how preoccupied he seemed. Chris refused to believe that about him.

Refusing to believe it still did not shake that uneasiness Chris felt in his bones that there was still something wrong.

* * *

Julia Pemberton could not sleep. 

She told herself that she had to get some rest, that Ezra would not want her roaming around the house like restless spirit unable to find peace. She sat down at her desk and tried to go through the purchase orders for the Emporium, hoping that the work could occupy her mind while she existed in this limbo of not knowing whether or not the only man she had ever loved was still alive. She focussed on the numbers and tried to forget that he was out there but soon fell back into a familiar pattern of remembering when she had last seen him. She could not even begin to imagine that it might be the last time she would see him.

For a woman who had as many lovers as she did, Ezra Standish had been such a surprise when he slipped into her life. He knew all her flaws and did not care a damn bit about them. They had found each other in the dark, two wounded souls bereft of any moral upbringing that had been drawn together from the moment they laid eyes upon one another. Together, they had found this family in the magical number of seven. Mythology had it that the number seven was a number of power. When she saw Ezra stand with his friends, she could well believe. Perhaps the flaw in thinking that with the seven, he was invulnerable.

God, she did not know what she would do if he were lost to her.

Julia dropped her pen and did not even notice that it had rolled across the paper, trailing ink across the neat columns of figures. She closed her eyes and tried to compose herself because she could feel tears coming again and it would do her no good. It certainly had meant little when Chris Larabee had come to her door hours ago and told her that their search had produced no sign of the gambler. He had tried to be kind and as comforting as Chris could be but she could see it in his eyes that he feared the worst and that was truth no amount of soft words could disguise.

Suddenly, the door knocked and Julia found herself standing up abruptly. A sliver of cold stark horror filtered into her at what news could come at such a late hour. Her state of mind was such that she expected the worse when she came around from her desk and entered the hallway that led to the front door. Part terrified and eager of what awaited behind it, Julia hurried forward and noted the silhouette of dark hat she knew could only belong to Chris Larabee, through the glass panes.

"Chris?" Julia swung open the door and stared at the gunslinger almost terrified of the news he might be bringing to her. "What is it?" She demanded.

"He's alive." Chris wasted no time in saying.

Julia let out a gasp of relief and immediately embraced Chris in unbridled relief. "Oh Thank God! Where is he?" She demanded.

"He's in his room at Mrs Satler." Chris explained when she pulled away from him, resting his hands on her shoulders not only to calm her down but to keep her from racing over to see Ezra before he had a chance to explain things to her a little clearly. "He's hurt." 

"Hurt!" Julia exclaimed. "How badly?"  

"Enough to keep him in bed for awhile," Chris responded. "It looks like some old poker buddies of his caught up to him last night and tried to string him up. Ezra got away but when he escaped he took a bad fall off his horse."

Julia's expression melted into a gasp and Chris could see she feared the worst. "I want to go see him."

"I figured you would," Chris remarked. "Nathan says he's got a little internal bleeding and has a fever so I don't think he'll be much in the mood for visitors."

"I am not a visitor, I am almost his wife!" Julia declared imperiously before realizing that Chris cared just as much for Ezra and she had no call to speak to the man that way. "I'm sorry, I just want to see him."

"I know," he smiled, showing her that there was no harm intended. "I just want you to know that you shouldn't expect too much when you see him, he'll probably be a little out of it."

"I understand," Julia nodded. "I just need to see if he's alright." Her eyes revealed the extent of her fears for Ezra and what the last day must have been like for her.

"Come on," Chris said warmly. "You shouldn't be out on the street at this time of night, I'll walk you over to Mrs. Satler's."

It was an offer Julia was not about to turn down although if the truth were known she would have gone even alone even if he had not offered. She could not breathe easily until she saw with her own eyes that he was alive and well. They made brisk pace across town once they set out for the lodging house arriving not long after.

"Come in." Ezra's weak voice beckoned through the door after Chris knocked.

They entered the room to be greeted with a peculiar odor that could only be one of Nathan's potions and saw the healer feeding it took Ezra. The gambler did not seem at all happy to be drinking the substance but broke into a faint smile at the sight of Julia.

"Oh Ezra," Julia hurried to his bedside and embraced him. "I've been so worried!" She cried.

"I assure you my dear, I am in one piece." He said coolly, fighting the urge to push her away and was rather proud of his efforts to appear genuinely pleased to see her. In truth, seeing Julia did make him feel better and until she touched him, he had no idea how strong the compulsion to draw away would be. However, he had to hide it from her. She, of all people could not suspect what had happened to him. It was almost as bad as having the rest of the seven learning the truth. He already hated the idea that Nathan knew but he could live with it because at the time, there was no real way he could have hidden it in his injured state. However, he did have a choice with the others and Julia and he was not going to have Julia question him as a man by having her know. 

"How is he?" She turned to Nathan as if hearing it from the healer would be assure her he was not simply putting a brave front for her benefit.  

"Just as little banged up," Nathan answered neutrally, catching the sharp state Ezra had turned at his direction beyond Julia’s notice. "Give him a couple of days of bed rest and he’ll be as good as new." 

"That’s a relief." Julia sighed and gazed at Ezra affectionately. "I think we can manage that." 

Ezra swallowed ever so lightly and produced a facsimile of his trademark smile. "I’m sure you can." 

"How are you doing Ezra?" Chris finally made himself heard, having held back before now to give the couple some time together without interruption.  

"I've had better days." Ezra remarked. 

"I’m sure you have." Chris cracked a faded smile. "What about those boys who came after you? Are they gone permanently?"  

Ezra paused a moment as he removed himself out of Julia's clutches and eased back into his pillow. The concoction that Nathan had administered to him had some sedating properties because he could feel the pain that had been constant companion since his return to consciousness, subside somewhat. His body was starting to feel relaxed and the discomfort easing. While he was not completely out of wits, he knew his mind was not as sharp as it should be and so he measured his words to Chris Larabee carefully 

"I dispensed with their leader, the main reason for their kidnapping. The others gave me the impression they would rather have the whole business done with." Ezra finally trusted himself enough to answer. "I doubt that I shall be concerning myself with an encore performance." 

"So where did they take you?" Julia asked, surprised that Chris and the rest of the seven had not come across Ezra during his time with the men who had kidnapped him. 

"You know, I am not entirely sure," Ezra said drowsily. "I was unconscious at the time and the only recollection that I have upon awaking was that I was in a barn. After the fall during my escape, I have to confess feeling a little disorientated and did not take too much stock of my surroundings."

"Doesn't matter," Julia said brushing a strand of hair out of his face and leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. She was about to make contact when she noticed that he had shuddered. It was very slight but enough to make her pause a second as she tried to understand what had just taken place. The odd feeling disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared and she resumed her attempt. A split second later, she felt her lips touch the warm skin of his feverish brow. She forced a smile to her face, meeting his eyes and seeing something in them that was just as askew as the rest of him at this instant. Julia told herself that he was sick and probably feeling miserable for her to be judging his reactions so suspiciously.  

It was just that for a second, it almost felt like he was revolted by the idea of touching her. 

"I think that's enough questions for now." Nathan quickly intervened, noticing what had occurred. "Chris, Julia, I really think Ezra needs to rest." 

"As much as I hate to admit it," Ezra responded, feeling a bubble of anxiety inflating inside of him at his involuntary reaction to Julia's touch. "Mr Jackson is correct. My dear," he glanced at Julia, "I do really need to get some rest." 

"Of course." Julia nodded telling herself again that she was mistaken about what she had felt. "I'll drop into see you tomorrow morning. I'll bring you some breakfast." She smiled and leaned over to kiss him on the lips. His mouth parted gently for hers and she could tell that he was not trying to pull away this time. 

Julia would have felt relieved if it were not for the fact that his kiss felt cold. 

* * *

"Damn." Ezra whispered softly after Julia and Chris had left him in Nathan's capable care. He wished he had been able to handle himself better than he had but when Julia reached for him, he felt this deep sense of panic at the thought of her touching him in any way. He had tried valiantly to seem normal but he was certain she noticed something was wrong even though she was uncertain in what shape it was. 

"I don't think you ought to worry too much about Julia." Nathan spoke up in an effort to make the gambler feel better. "She knows you're feeling poorly. Its only natural that you might be a little skittish after almost getting killed and all." 

Ezra wished he could believe Nathan but somehow he knew the woman he loved better than that. After so many hours in rapturous exploration of one another, they knew each other as intimately as any two people were capable. He knew that she had sensed it when he pulled away and though she was confused about why, she nonetheless had seen it. Ezra felt his insides knot at the idea of how long it would take for her to figure it out and then have her knowledge turn her love for him into pure revulsion. The idea that she could look at him with disgust was something Ezra never wanted to see but he could think of no way to keep that from happening. The seeds of doubt had been planted in her head. 

"I am going to lose her." Ezra whispered as Nathan put another cool towel over his head.  

"Now don't be talking like that." Nathan said reproachfully. "That girl loves you. "You know that. Even if she found out I don't think that's likely to change." 

"How long will she keep loving me after she finds out the truth?" Ezra muttered as the sleep started to overcome him." 

"The truth is that you were hurt by an animal." Nathan retorted firmly, refusing to let Ezra believe anything else. "That is the only truth that will matter to her."

"I wish I had your faith in people Nathan," Ezra closed his eyes and felt the medicine lull him into sleep. "Unfortunately, I have seen far too much ugliness to ever believe that such faith is not misguided." 

"Now you listen to me," Nathan voice sliced through the haziness in his mind after a pause. "Don't you ever tell me that you have seen far uglier things than I have because I guarantee you, you're wrong. I've seen evil on men's faces for no other reason then they wanting it to be there. You did not ask for what happened to you and only a filthy animal would do that to a man. I don't think you deserved any of it and I sure as hell know that if Miss Julia knew what I did, she would think the same way. Don't go pushing her away when this is the time you should be turning to her."

Ezra closed his eyes, not wanting to hear because the words felt meaningless. "How can I turn to her when I feel like tearing my skin off my bones whenever she touches me. I will not hurt her by showing her  _my_  revulsion. I love her too much for that."

Nathan let out a deep sigh as he saw Ezra fade away into sleep on that somber note. He knew that he should be getting back to his room to get some sleep but he could not bring himself to leave just yet. Settling into the wing chair next to the bed, he continued to watch over Ezra until he too lapsed into slumber

* * *

After Chris had walked Julia home, he took a chance to swing by Alex's clinic to see if Vin was back from his investigations with Josiah about the unrest warned about by Kojay. As he made his way to the clinic, he could not help thinking about what had transpired this evening. Julia had said virtually nothing after leaving Ezra except to thank him when they finally arrived at her porch and though Chris had tried to coax her to talk about what was bothering her so much, he was not good at such things and had little success. Finally, he decided to give up all together because knowing women, she'd probably be more apt to tell Mary the next day anyway. Still, he could not get the image of her troubled expression out of his mind. 

He knew what it was of course, though not exactly why she was so bothered.

Chris who noticed everything had seen the way Ezra reacted when Julia leaned over to kiss him. It was like a minute shift in the wind, so slight that it was barely recognisable except to those who knew how to look and Chris knew how to look very well indeed. Ezra's barriers had dropped for the barest hint of a second and what Chris had seen in his eyes was difficult to believe because this was Ezra, who was sometimes even more closed off than he was. Chris had searched for it as soon as it appeared but it vanished almost immediately and the gunslinger had stood there wondering what he had seen and hated it that he could not pin it down, whatever it was. However, he knew how it felt though, even for that second, he recognized the emotion even though he did not understand.

Chris knew all about fear.

Ezra had been afraid. For some reason when Julia went to touch him, Ezra was afraid. Chris shook the thought out of his mind because it was absurd. The man was a crack shot, with a pistol he was even than Vin, perhaps even better than Chris was was himself. The way he lived prior to meeting the seven ensured he knew how to survive at any costs and in recent years, Ezra had always proven himself by his ability to bounce back. What on Earth would make him scared? It was ludicrous and Chris told himself it had to something else, something that he had not quite figured out yet. Did Nathan know? An involuntary question slipped through the mire of his thoughts. When Nathan had been talking to him, Chris had sensed the healer holding something back, was it because he knew? 

"Stop it Larabee," Chris muttered out loud. "You're getting paranoid." 

He arrived at the clinic and saw the upstairs lights still burning through the window and knew that Alex was still awake. He almost reconsidered the idea of calling on Vin at this hour but this whole issue with Ezra was preying heavily on his mind and if he did not have something else to occupy his attention, he would most certainly stay up half the night thinking it about it. He took the steps up the side of the building and heard the soft chatter of conversation behind the door. Chris was glad that they tracker and his wife were still awake, feeling a little guilty for intruding at a late hour because he had a bee in his bonnet.

  
"Hey pard," Vin Tanner drawled in that usual lazy tone upon opening the door and finding his best friend standing before him. He was clad in his leather pants and suspenders hung over his shirtless body. It appeared as if Vin was just about to call it a night and made Chris feel doubly guilty for his presence at the tracker's door.

"Sorry to call on you so late Vin," Chris immediately apologized, knowing that his timing would immediately put the younger man on guard. It was uncanny how much alike they were at times. Vin was probably in the same frame of mind Chris had been when Nathan had come to tell him about Ezra.

"Something wrong?" Vin asked quickly.  

"Nothing immediate." Chris answered, putting the man at ease and following his statement, saw Vin relax visibly. 

"Come on in," Vin withdrew into the doorway with the full expectation of Chris following.

 It did not take long before they were settled at the kitchen table with Chris nursing a hot cup of coffee furnished by Alex, who left the two men alone and turned in for the night. Considering the hours the lady put it at times at her clinic, it was hardly surprising she would want some rest. Alex had filled Vin on Ezra's disappearance shortly after his return and Chris informed the tracker dutifully that Ezra had found his way home with no help from the seven despite their effort to find him.

Vin Tanner watched Chris Larabee for a few minutes saying nothing as the gunslinger spoke and found more insight in what the man did not say as opposed to what he did. He knew Chris had something on his mind and truth be known, Vin had a few things to say too. "So he's okay then." Vin declared. 

"More or less." Chris shrugged. "He's laid up after falling off his horse and he's pretty sure the boys who took him ain't coming back so that as they say is that."  

Vin nodded. "You got a problem with it?" He guessed perceptively. 

Chris let out a faded smile. "I just find it hard to believe that someone can be sniffing around for Ezra and not even give us the slightest clue." 

That was hardly unusual in Vin's opinion. When Ely Joe had sent those false marshals after him, the tracker had no idea until he was attacked on his way to his wagon one night. It incensed him to no end that he had been so off guard to allow those men to sneak up behind him. "Doesn't mean anything, Chris. It just happens."  

"I suppose," Chris replied, not entirely convinced but not about to torture himself with what he could not unravel either. Ezra was back and that was all that mattered. If there was more to it then that, it would come out eventually. The truth always did.  

"Well at least you know Miss Belladonna ain't got nothing to do with him disappearing." Vin pointed out. 

"That's true," Chris agreed. "Still odd though, how she just cleared out." 

"People get restless, they move on." Vin responded. "Weren't that long ago when we weren't much different." He reminded Chris with a little smile. 

"Tell me about it," Chris nodded and took another sip of his coffee. "So what did you and Josiah find out today?"

"I was going to talk to you first thing in the morning," Vin sat up straight and leaned forward on the table as if he were to impart something of importance to his friend. "Since you're here now, I'll fill you in." 

"Is trouble coming?" Chris' brow furrowed in anticipation of Vin's next words. 

"I think so," Vin nodded. "Josiah and I tracked one of the Chiricahuan Apache tribes I know of. Chief there is a good man, use to sit in with Cochise in the old days."

Chris knew of the Apache Chief who had been one of the greater American Indian leaders of his time. Of course, his was an opinion not shared by most but then Chris knew a good man when he heard about one and respected them, no matter what their color. "What did he have to say?"

"There is trouble." Vin confirmed grimly. "Not from his people but from the Chokonens. The Apache are getting mighty stirred up. This 'Eagle' whoever he is, has been telling them they're gonna lose their lands with the railroad bringing in settlers and this becoming a state. Josiah and I tried to tell the old Chief that we're pretty far from things coming to that but what can we say that someone else won't change? The white man's never honored his treaties with the Indians; I mean look at what they did to Mangas? They got no reason to believe anything we say." 

As much as Chris wanted to refute Vin's words, the tracker was right. There was no promise the seven could make to the Indians in the area that the powers above them could not veto for their own selfish ends. Mangas Coloradas, a Mimbreno Apache had arrived to meet General Joseph West under a flag of truce and West, proving once again that the Indian had every reason to fear white men, broke that truce by imprisoning Mangas' party and having the man killed. What words could there be to justify that?

 "So does it look like the Chokonens are going to revolt?" Chris asked once more. 

"It ain't just the Chokenens Chris," Vin replied, his eyes becoming dark with worry. "We're looking at the possible revolt of  _most_  of the Apache nation. Cochise' son Naiche is throwing with Geronimo, thanks to this Eagle. They're talking about wiping out every white man they find. The Navajo are getting pulled into it. Kojay knows better but he's just one tribe. The Hopi are staying out of it according to the old Chief but they've got people who want to join up." 

"So we're looking at a splinter group." Chris declared, wondering if there was any way to avoid calling the army on this.

"A very large splinter group." Vin sighed. "I'm gonna take a ride out to the Chokonen tribe tomorrow, see if I can't get a bead on who this Eagle is. I've met Naiche some years back when I was tracking. I don't think he'll be too unreasonable."

"You expect him to talk?" Chris stared at Vin, not all liking the idea of Vin going into hostile territory.

"Not really but its worth a try." He answered.

"You could get yourself scalped pard," Chris pointed out. "You ain't doing it alone." 

"You got two boys to worry about," Vin stated firmly. "I got a wife who can take care of herself whether I'm here or not. I can go alone."

He probably could but Chris was still not going to let him. "I'm going with you."

  
"Dang, you're one stubborn son of a bitch." Vin grumbled giving him a look.

Chris chuckled and returned his stare with one just as sardonic. "Look who's talking."

* * *

 

**Warning: This section does involve explicit scenes that are slash in nature (Rating NC-17)**

 

_The pain tore through his consciousness like nothing he had ever experienced before in his entire life. He struggled against the ropes around his wrist but could not even loosen them. Normally, he was capable of loosening any knot for his hands were skilled at many things, not just card playing. However, his mind was racing in panic and agony and the knots seemed like padlocks of cast iron as he struggled to free himself. Tears were streaking down his face and he ground his teeth, trying not to let the pain overcome him. It was unimaginable what was happening to him, even though this was what he had feared since discovering he was Hannibal Julius' prisoner._

_Another powerful thrust tore a scream from him again._

_Ezra felt it impale him with such unrelenting agony that he was screaming openly, not caring that he should not be giving his brutaliser the satisfaction of hearing his pain. It was not just the pain that made him wail so; it was indignance and disbelief that something so awful could happen to him. He was a southern gentleman who was used to going to the rescue of others, not being bent over and violated in this degrading manner. He was one of the seven! Things like this did not happen to one of the seven!_

_Almost in answer, he felt Julius hands on his hips, holding him tighter, pumping into him in a slow steady rhythm. Ezra felt every stroke as it entered him. Its shredded his insides like barbed wire until he had trouble standing up. His knees were starting to give out._

_"STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" Julius' voice roared in his ears. "YOU STAY ON YOUR KNEES EZRA OR SO HELP ME I'LL GIVE YOU TO ALL MY MEN!"_

_The idea of being gang raped curdled his resolve with such absolute terror that Ezra could hardly breathe and he started to weep as he forced himself to remain on his knees, to accept obediently Julius' foul vengeance. He sobbed, hating himself for being so weak and unable to stop this from happening to him. His sobs were intermittently broken by gasps of pain as Julius who was close to release became more and more frenzied with his strokes, until he was ramming so hard that Ezra thought he might die from the sheer excruciating agony._

_"What are you some kind of funny cowboy?" Buck Wilmington's voice suddenly captured Ezra's attention._

_Ezra had been closing his eyes, not wanting to see that horrible reflection in the mirror of himself and Julius. However, the voice made him look up. Ezra's eyes widened when he saw Buck Wilmington standing there against the far wall, watching him._

_"HELP ME!" Ezra shouted at the big man as another thrust clipped the end of his sentence with a grunt of pain._

_"Looks to me like you ought to be able to handle this on your own." Vin Tanner who was standing next to him added._

_"PLEASE!" He begged again. He could hear Julius behind him, grunting, gasping hard in pleasure, and digging fingers into his skin. "MAKE IT STOP!"_

_"You should be able to do that on your own," Nathan Jackson added just as indifferently. "Oh maybe you're liking it just a little."_

_"NO!!!" Ezra cried out in return. "DO SOMETHING!"_

_"No money in it brother." Josiah Sanchez shrugged dispassionately, shuffling a deck of cards in his large hands as he watched like the others were watching._

_"PLEASE!" Ezra pleaded desperately. "HELP ME!"_

_"Oh come on Ezra," JD replied from another corner of the room. "You did kiss him once. Don't that make you a tease?"_

_"I DID IT FOR MARY!" He shouted out in defiance, feeling his spirit starting to crumble._

_"You did it cause you liked it Ezra," Chris Larabee said with a smile, smoking a cheroot and appearing as if he was almost entertained by what he was seeing. "Come on boys," the gunslinger turned to the others and spoke, giving Ezra one last look. "It's our turn to run out on him when he needs us."_

_Chris said this while he was holding Julia in his arms._

**********

The scream that ripped through Nathan's consciousness and sent him leaping out of the chair towards Ezra was unlike anything he had ever heard. It was like howl of a wild animal, wounded and braying at the moon for and end to his slow death. When he reached the bed, Ezra was sitting up covered in sweat, panting, his eyes wide with terror and looking very much like that animal who needed to die.

"Ezra! It's okay! You were just dreaming." Nathan called out and reached for him as he slid onto the bed. 

However dazed and disoriented Ezra might have been from his nightmare, he was not so out of his senses that he did not see the healer reaching for him.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" He fairly roared and made Nathan recoil from the sheer savagery in his voice. 

"Ezra take it easy," Nathan retreated to the edge of the bed and spoke calmly, trying to reach the gambler in his distraught state. "You were dreaming. It's over now."

Ezra buried his face in his hands and started to sob. "No it is not over!" He said through gritted teeth. "It will never be over! Why couldn't he just kill me! Why couldn't he just let me die! Dying would be preferable to this!" 

And Nathan could only watch helplessly because for the first time in his life, he did not know how to help.


	5. The Line Between Worlds

 

It was entirely possible to live in the Territory and be unaware that beyond the safety of one's home and township could exist a way of life as alien as any that may have existed throughout the ages. For Vin Tanner, who had been fortunate enough in his youth to make the crossing that most believed unfathomable, he had walked through the mist and crossed the line that existed between this disparate world to come something from truly unique. He supposed that he had tried so hard to breach the walls of his own kind to find coexistence with another in those days out of some need to belong. It had taken him a long time to understand that belonging began from an acceptance of what one was, not what other saw him to be.  

Still old habits died hard, even in this present day when he was a man married, who had a home and friends to whom he felt a kinship that had more substance that blood. As he sat astride Peso and saw the distant world ahead beckoning him as it once did in all its unique differences, he wondered what it would have been like if he had been able to fit? Would he have been any happier? How would his life have been without Alex and Chris? Vin shook such thoughts out of his head as he saw the Apache village in the distance.  

Beyond that were cornfields the Apaches used to supplement their diet of deers, gophers, wild turkeys and lizards. Vin could not imagine where they would find the water to irrigate these crops but supposed the Apache never really had a problem with that because they knew everything there was to know about this land. The tell tale tendrils of smoke from cooking hearths could be seen in the sky and though the air was heavy with silence, except for the birds that soared above them, he knew they had seen him. Somehow, they always managed to.  

"You okay pard?" Chris asked as they rode side by side towards the village they could not see yet but knew was there nonetheless. In the last hour or so, Vin had become quiet, even more so than usual. It took no feat of genius to guess what was on the younger man's mind. After all, Vin had never kept his feelings about the Indians a secret. He believed that the Indians had been greatly wronged and though the opinion of the seven varied in degree, the rest of them felt more or less the same. Chris' own beliefs had little to do with Native American rights then it had to do with the rights of anyone being able to live their lives with their families in peace. Having lost a family once in his life, he did not think anyone should have to suffer that horror, no matter what race they originated. 

"I'm fine." Vin answered after a moment, his eyes facing front still. "I'm just wondering what I'm gonna say to him." 

"How long has it been?" Chris asked, knowing precisely whom Vin was referring to.  

"Five, six years." Vin said off handedly. "He wasn't even chief back then. His brother Taza was meant to follow in Conchise' footsteps but Taza died a couple of months before we met up. He was on his way to Washington can you believe it?"

Chris knew that there had been Indian delegations to the capital where politicians made half hearted attempts to forge out some kind of peace between themselves and the Indians. Unfortunately, the reality of the situation made any agreement meaningless. Even the Indians knew this now. So many treaties and accords had been shattered arbitrarily that the Indians no longer wasted time with diplomacy when it was clear that the White Man could not be reasoned with. Despite his opinion being a rarity for this day and age, Chris could not help feeling a little ashamed at the conduct of his own kind.

"How did he die?" Chris inquired, almost afraid to ask for the answer he might receive.  

"Pneumonia." Vin responded and caught the visible sigh of relief that Chris tried to hide upon receiving that news. "Naiche became chief. He wasn't too happy about it. With the Apache, being Chief is something you're prepared for all your life and everyone expected it was always going to be Taza, especially Naiche. He wasn't really happy about taking his brother's place." 

Chris could hardly blame him. That was a tremendous responsibility if you were not ready for it. For Chris, leadership came easily though he never actively sought it out. Mary said that he had an air of authority and confidence about him, an instinct of knowing what to do and helping others find their way to it themselves. Chris felt uncomfortable about it despite knowing that it was ingrained into every part of him. Did it have to do with his being the General's son? Chris was not quite sure but the instinct had allowed him to keep six men together who should by all rights scattered to the breeze with the first shift of the wind.  

Vin could sense the question that Chris had been trying not to ask because both men had an understanding that their past was something behind them, invisible threads that kept past mistakes still tethered to them in the present or something as equally damaging. "I stayed with the Apache for a two years." Vin stated. "When I was a lot younger. I knew Conchise but not well, he and Taza were busy being Chief but I was friends with Naiche. They let me stay cause they knew that I respected their ways, respected them as warriors but they could never get past the fact that I was white man. Nothing could change that for them. Can't say I blame them, considering." 

"Did they ask you to leave?" Chris asked after a moment, sensing that was the part that Vin was not so eager to speak of.

 "Yes." Vin nodded. A named surfaced involuntarily in his mind even though he had spent years trying to forget it.  _Lozen_.  

There was something in his manner that told Chris whatever the reason for Vin's expulsion from the Apaches, it was best a subject left alone. Chris supposed that if Vin felt he needed to know, the tracker would tell him. They continued across the plains until the village became more than just a shadow in the distance but something real with people moving across the village, going about their business as they always did. It was early morning and Chris could smell the aroma wafting from cooking pots as food was prepared. The Apache villagers did not seem terribly bothered at their presence only indifferent.

 It was no wonder, Chris realised and saw what Vin had been aware of for some time. They were surrounded. The landscape did not allow for it easily but once one really saw instead of just plain looking, Chris could see the Apache braves that were watching them closely from positions of stealth. With too many occasions where the Army had simply ridden in and slaughtered whole villages without provocation, Chris supposed that such paranoia must have been a part of life. Fighting the urge to make a threatening move towards his gun, Chris kept his hands on the reins.  

"You see them?" He asked Vin casually. 

"Yep," Vin said in an equally lazy drawl. "They been watching us ever since we passed the ridge and came across the plains. Some of them have been hiding in those bushes and rocks we saw back there. "  

Chris shuddered because he never even saw them and wondered how it was possible that Vin had before he remembered that Vin had an uncanny ability to track like no man could. Chris knew that Vin had lived with the Comanche as well as the Apache for a time and could not imagine how that would work unless he had been young. As a rule, the Comanche tended to kill males outright, while women and children were captured and returned to the tribe in the infamous raids the Commanche were known for. Women were usually raped and enslaved while children adopted into the tribe. Was it that way for Vin? Chris knew something of Vin's youth after the death of his mother. No doubt, as a child Vin Tanner would have spent some years in an orphanage as a ward of the state but Chris could not imagine Vin tolerating the conditions of such a place for long. Had he run away and some how found himself in the clutches of the Comanche who would have raised him as own? It was from the Comanche that Vin had learnt his extraordinary tracking skills because they were avid buffalo hunters. 

By the time they approached the outskirts of the village, the entire population was aware of their presence although not entirely concerned. Their warriors were the best there were, prepared from birth and ready to be called such by the age of 15. As formidable as Vin and Chris were in their own right, if the Apaches chose to make a fight of it right this moment, they would not stand a chance. Perhaps now, more than ever as Chris saw how deftly the Apaches could sneak up behind him, did he understand the reason for the fear that had inspired Kojay to break faith with the tribes by telling Josiah about the mysterious 'Eagle'. A combination of so many different tribes, all angry at too many years of violence could be a plague across the new settlements that no one could stop. 

"Vin," Chris found himself asking again. "You sure about this?"

"No." Vin said honestly, "that's why I told you not to come."

"I admire your ability to joke at a time like this. Remind me to tell you the one about the preacher, the nun and the rabbi before we get scalped." Chris returned.

Vin said nothing because his attention was focussed on the emergence of a tall man with hawkish eyes. His jet colored hair was worn loose over his shoulder and he wore a colored bandanna across his forehead, however, there was little else that distinguished him from the other warriors that were staring at him in open hostility. However, there was no doubt in Chris' mind that this was indeed Naiche, Chief of the Chiricahuan Apaches. The manner in which all others viewed him seemed to confirm this. Naiche was tall for an Indian and he stared at Vin Tanner with hawkish eyes, full of recognition that gave no indication whether or not it was a happy or unhappy reunion. 

Vin dismounted Peso and Chris did the same. The gunslinger decided that it was best to follow Vin's lead since the tracker knew the terrain and the people far better than he did. Chris had no idea fighting the urge to go for his gun could be so hard when he saw the Apache warriors who had been stalking them make their emergence into the open. Their eyes focussed singularly on the new arrivals, weapons in hand, poise to attack if the provocation was given. Chris kept his hand off the butt of his peacemaker, aware that pulling a weapon on these men would be a mistake of fatal proportions.

Vin could sense Chris' anxiety and could not deny feeling a little of the same fears. Naiche and Vin had crossed paths years ago, before he had started bounty hunting. He did not stay with the Apache for too long, not more than a year actually. After what he did, it was best to make an abrupt departure even though he had been forced to go and not by any real fear for his life. As he thought about those days, he wondered secretly if she was still here in the village or did she go to her new husband in another tribe. There was a time just thinking about her made him so sick with jealousy, he hardly stand it. Finally, Vin had come to the conclusion that the best remedy for that was not to think of her at all. It was a rule he had managed to adhere to until they began riding towards the village this morning, where the possibility of seeing again became real.

" _Hon Dah_  Naiche." Vin greeted as the Chief came to him. 

" _Hon Dah_  Tanner." Naiche straightened up. "It has been a long time. What do you want here?" He stared at Chris briefly and then back to Vin, almost as if he was also asking what justified Vin bringing a stranger to their encampment. 

"Just came to talk Chief." Vin answered respectfully, holding his empty hands at Naiche as a gesture of peace. "This is my friend Chris Larabee." 

"A gunfighter?" Naiche looked him over and came to that conclusion immediately. 

Chris felt another urge to reach for his gun but once again held the impulse in check; aware that things were balanced delicately enough as it was without him behaving rashly. Besides, Vin seemed to know what to do and the gunslinger found that he had to trust his friend in this situation.  

"He's just a friend." Vin repeated himself cautiously.  

"What do you want here?" Naiche demanded more forcefully this time. "If it were not our friendship years ago, I would have told my warriors to kill you the minute we saw you."

"We ain't enemies Naiche." Vin said quickly, his eyes studying the warriors surrounding himself and Chris and knew he had to thread very carefully if either of them were to make it out here alive. 

"What you did made you an enemy." Naiche pointed out. 

Chris turned immediately to Vin in question, wondering what the tracker could have done to inspire such words. Chris could not imagine Vin doing anything to hurt the Indians, considering how the younger man felt about the plains Indians and the Apaches he once was apart. Vin met his gaze briefly and Chris knew in an instant that whatever crime Naiche was accusing Vin, it was all-true. Suddenly, Chris understood all too clearly why Vin had insisted on taking this trip alone.

"I loved her. She loved me. She chose me." Vin reiterated 

"She was chosen for another!" Naiche barked back. "If she had married as she was supposed to, it would have been a great alliance between us and the Chihenne!"

"She loved me." Vin returned. "I loved her. There was never any choice in the matter." 

An awkward silence followed as Naiche thought of something to say. "She is gone."  

Vin looked up at him. "Gone?"  

"She returned to the Chihenne and her brother Chief Victorio. She thought that you would come back for her." Naiche glared at him, his eyes narrowed in a mixture of cruelty and anger. "They say she is a medicine woman of great power now but she has  _never_  taken a husband." 

"I thought...." Vin stammered. It had never occurred to him that she would not have gone through the marriage as planned. Lozen had been so earnest about fulfilling her obligations. His mind filled with images of their last night, of love made under the stars, a stolen night when all the others were searching for them because of their crime. She had told him to go after, even though he had refused. Her destiny was not written with his, she had said. He had another path to walk. 

"Easy pard," Chris placed a hand on his shoulder, hearing enough to guess what had happened. Vin had done the unthinkable, falling in love with an Apache woman bound for a warrior. The Apache women had no choice in their mates, it was all an arrangement made between tribes and fathers. As Vin composed himself from the news he had just received, Chris turned to Naiche. 

"We ain't here to cause trouble or to hurt anyone," he spoke humbly. "But we have heard rumors of a white man that has been travelling to the tribes, telling you that with statehood, comes the loss of your land. We were worried that this man, whomever he is, doesn't care so much about you as he does about what your destruction would mean for him." 

Naiche glared at Chris and the gunslinger knew immediately that Naiche was familiar with the man he was describing. "You know nothing about what he tells us." 

"So you do know him." Chris returned. 

"He is the Eagle." Naiche retorted and there was a hush of reverence throughout the group of warriors watching them as that name was uttered, almost as if it had power over them.  

"He tells us many truths and truths do not come easily for White Man. You lie like it is a part of you, like the color of your skin." Naiche declared vehemently. "The rest of your kinds speaks with lies, we cannot trust you. My grandfather Mangas died by your lies. The Eagle does not lie. He tells us that the White Man will never be happy while we live here on the plains. Until we are all in reservations of your choosing will you be happy. You will see us herded into cages so you can watch us die slowly while raping the land that has been ours for generations. He tells us that and we know it to be the truth for we have seen it." 

"He tells you the truth that will make you angry," Vin retaliated. "He wants to make you all angry." 

"We are angry!" Naiche shouted and there were voices who understood the English they were speaking to agree with their chief most verbally. Cheers rose up around them like rushing waters of the tidal swell, surrounding them with its outrage.  

"Naiche," Vin took a deep breath, trying to reach the man somehow. "Once I did wrong because of Lozen. I loved her and I took her from whom she was supposed to marry. My crime was that I put the good of the tribe before my love for a woman. I ain't gonna excuse myself of that but I care about your people because for a time, they were like my own. I don't want to see you hurt, any of you. If this Eagle tells you to fight and you do, what has been before ain't gonna compare to what will be when the Army comes after you. What is left of the Apache will die. This Eagle wants you to fight because he knows you will be killed. You can't win against the Army. They got more guns, more artillery and supplies and they can wait you out." 

"We are warriors!" Naiche roared and his words made the others roar their agreement. The sound was like an elixir to the chief and Chris could see the power of it invigorating him as he faced Vin again. "You think we are weak because we do not have your guns and your artillery? What if we had? Would you think your Army will kill us easily? We are warriors, we have been a race of warriors before your people even thought of this land. If we had weapons like yours then we will not be so easy to kill." 

Suddenly Chris had a terrible premonition about why the Eagle was being supported so readily by the tribes but he could not voice it or they would never leave this place alive. "I think you're right." He said coolly. "You are better than we are as warriors, we just didn't want to see any more people hurt, white or Indian." 

"Maybe you afraid that we will kill more of your white settlers, the ones stealing our land." Naiche accused.

 "Maybe you're right." Vin said quietly. "Or maybe we'll all die and it will only be the Eagle who is left standing." 

Naiche fell silent and stared directly at Vin. "You will leave now."

"Naiche," Vin started to say when he felt Chris' hand on his shoulder squeeze slightly. 

"We'll go." Chris said coolly. "We came to warn you, we've done that." He stared at Vin directly and gave him an unspoken command to obey.

Vin did not understand Chris' haste to leave when they still knew nothing about the Eagle. "But Chris...." 

"Now Vin." Chris repeated himself firmly.

Naiche shifted his attention to the black garbed stranger and realised that whoever he was to Vin, he clearly sat in a position of some authority. "Your friend is wise Tanner." Naiche replied, giving Chris a look of respect that was customary among Chiefs. "You will go now and you will not come back. I let you leave because you were once my friend and I believe you speak the truth when you says you come here out of concern for us but that concern is not necessary. We will take care of ourselves as we have always done."

Vin wanted to say more but Chris gave him a look to remain silent because there was more going on here than they had possibly realised. There as no way the Apache would give up the Eagle or any information about him to them, not if what Chris suspected was true. In fact, he was counting himself lucky that Vin had not guessed what he had because verbalizing it to Naiche would be a fatal mistake. "Come on pard," Chris said calmly. "We've done what we can here, let's go home."

Vin nodded and faced Naiche once more. "Next time." 

"I do not think so." Naiche returned automatically. "I do not think ever again." 

And for some reason, Vin felt a chill of fear running down his spine because he knew Naiche was right. 

* * *

Chris did not know how long it was before they were far enough away from the Apache village for it to be deemed safe to discuss what had happened at the village. Vin had been silent for most of the journey to this point and Chris could tell that he was thinking about a number of things. Their abrupt departure and Chris' insistence that they leave without learning nothing about the Eagle was first and foremost, Chris suspected but also what was told the tracker about the woman he loved and had left so many years ago. Vin had never spoken about her but Chris was hardly surprised because Vin seemed to have a pattern of bad choices when it came to women. Perhaps it was because the young man could be so passionate; he did not see a dangerous relationship when it appeared. 

"Want to talk about it?" Chris asked once they were within familiar terrain they knew would not be likely to be the scene of any belated Apache attacks.

Vin said nothing for a few seconds, debating whether or not he wanted to speak of Lozen to Chris but then supposed that if there was one person in the world he could discuss her with, it was the gunslinger. Vin was not even prepared to tell Alex about her. "Her name was Lozen." Vin said after a long pause. "She was young and pretty. Smart too. I guess, in a lot of ways, she's like Alex. She wasn't a medicine woman yet when I met but she was learning. They say she used to be able to see things."

Chris nodded, allowing Vin to talk because he could see how much Vin felt about her.  

"She loved me, even though she knew it was plenty trouble for both of us and I couldn't help it. No one had ever cared for me like that before, I didn't stand a chance." Vin offered him a wan smile.

"There are women who do that to you." Chris had to agree, remembering what Sarah's effect on him had been the first time he saw her.

"Lozen did." Vin continued. "We tried to keep it a secret for as long as we could but as the day got closer and closer to her being married off to some brave in the village, the truth got out. To the Apache, lying is worst thing you can do." 

"I kind of got that impression," Chris responded. "What happened?"

"We ran." Vin said abruptly, suddenly finding too many parallels with his behavior with Charlotte then was comfortable. "We spent one last night together and she said goodbye. She said that we were not meant to be that our destinies were not written together. " 

"Maybe she was right," Chris said understandingly. "You and Alex.."

"I know," Vin interrupted because he did not have to say it. "I wouldn't trade Alex for anything but hearing that Lozen had never married. I can't help thinking if she wasn't waiting for me and I never went to her." 

"You can't spend your life on wondering what you should have done. I used to think that if I hadn't stayed with Buck in Mexico, would it have changed how things turned out with Sarah and Adam. I used to think about it so much that it almost drove me to eating a bullet anyway I could get it "

"You're right," Vin conceded Chris that point because no one knew more about regret than Chris Larabee. Besides, Lozen was in his past and Alex was his future. He did not wish to torture himself about a past he could not change, especially when there were more important things to deal with at the moment. "So why did we high tail out of there so quickly?" He asked instead, changing the subject accordingly. 

Chris was glad that Vin brought that subject up because it reminded him of the full magnitude of their problem. "I think this Eagle is firing them up with more than just words." 

"What do you mean?" Vin stared at him.

"Didn't you hear that whole thing about guns, artillery and support?" Chris pointed out. "Now the one thing that has kept us ahead of them in all our fights is the fact that we're just better armed then they are, not better fighters or anything, just that we have more guns and ammo. What if they were given the same?" 

"Christ." Vin exclaimed under his breath. The Apache alone were formidable warriors. Their culture reeked of battle and preparing for it. Boys were raised from birth to become warriors and by the age of 15 were more than capable of waging war quite effectively. They were a passionate and proud people who were not afraid to die for their cause if necessary. "You think this Eagle might be giving them guns?" 

"I'd almost guarantee it." Chris said shortly. "Not just the Apache but all those splinter groups who are buying into what he says."

"God Chris," Vin gasped, the enormity of the gunslingers words sinking into him and producing a strangulating feeling of dread. The bloodbath was unimaginable. Not only for the settlers, homesteaders and towns that resided within easy real of all these tribes but the inevitable retaliation that would come from the Army when the slaughter was done.  

"We've got our choices narrowed down now." Chris whispered. "I know who the Eagle is and it makes perfect sense." 

"Who?" Vin stared at him. 

"Julius. Hannibal Julius."

* * *

Ezra woke up at midday and found himself alone in his room.

He vaguely recalled Nathan Jackson being here throughout most of the night but his memories were vague because of the medication he had imbibed in the broth the healer had fed him. Despite himself, Ezra found himself grateful for the man's presence throughout the night, considering the kind of nightmares he had been plagued with. Ezra sat up in his bed and immediately felt his senses come alive as his body reacquainted him with the injuries he had sustained. However, mercifully the pain was nowhere as bad even though he throbbed whenever he attempted to move. He was rather surprised that no one had come calling until he took a deep breath of the cold air left over from the morning and noted the aroma of food.

Shifting his gaze to the table at the side of his bed, he saw a tray of food left behind. The steam rising form it indicated that it had not been left there for very long and he wondered who his benefactor had been. Most likely Julia or Nathan, Ezra decided after a moment of preponderance. He climbed out of his bed and looked around the room, aware that he was probably not quite fit to leave it but somehow, he could not bring himself to stay indoors either. There were too many ghosts in this room with him and after the horrors of the past night, he needed to be elsewhere, even if it was for an hour. However first things first, he would not allow this repast to go to waste and he was hungry. Granted, he had not had much of an appetite the night before but now he could feel the rumblings of hunger in his stomach.

Ezra removed himself from underneath the covers and stepped gingerly onto the cool floorboards. His windows were drawn and the room was virtually in darkness, which explained why the air was cool. The only reason he knew that it was midday at all was because of the clock that sat on the dressing table across the room. As he stood upright, he felt a stab of pain run through his lower back but the pain was nowhere as intense as it was the day before and it faded away to tolerable levels a moment later. Still, if he planned to make a trip outdoors, it had better not be for very long because he doubted he was physically up to an extended sojourn. He was much too tender for that.  

He was in the process of getting dressed when suddenly, the door swung open.

"Ezra!" Julia exclaimed as she saw what he was preparing to do. "What are you doing out of bed?"

 "Getting dressed," Ezra let out a silent groan because he was not up to arguing with her at this point.

 "Getting dressed?" She looked at him in dismay. "Ezra you have been hurt, you need a day of bed rest." She came towards him and tried to take his arm when suddenly Ezra pulled away sharply.

 "What's going on Ezra?" Julia stared at him.

"Nothing," he said evasively and continued to get dressed. His back facing her because he did not want her to see his eyes because she would tell immediately that far more was wrong than what he had simply told her. "I realize that I am injured but I am not completely an invalid. I can do some things for myself." 

"I know that," Julia recanted, feeling a little guilty because she had been behaving rather imperiously towards him, even though it was for the best of intentions. "But you're not well and you shouldn't be moving around."

 "I am perfectly aware of how well I am," Ezra returned without any kindness in his voice. He still could not look at her as he buttoned up his pants and reached gingerly for his shirt. "I have been trapped in this room far longer than I feel comfortable and I need to be outside for awhile. I take it that is acceptable to you?"

"Ezra don't talk to me like a child." Julia returned. "I was just concerned."

"Then do not treat me as one." He retorted and knew that he was being harsh but could not help it. He was tired of being handled. A man had a right to go outside without having to answer to anyone! 

"Alright," she smiled, forcing the hurt out her voice. She told herself that his surliness had to do with his ordeal and that if she had been in his place, she would be just as annoyed and disgruntled. A small voice balked at the idea however, no matter how Julia tried to sell herself on it. "If you want to go out, why don't we got to Tavern for lunch? I'm sure Inez will be cooking by now."

"That sounds like a fine idea." Ezra remarked. "Unfortunately, you have no business being in the Tavern so I shall go myself." He found his dark vest and slipped it over his shirt. 

"Don't you want me to come with you?" Julia asked, feeling her heart crush inside her chest. Why was he so distant, not to mention mean? Could he not see that she was only trying to help and that he was hurting her more than was justified by his cold manner. 

"Julia," Ezra turned around and faced her, poker face completely in place now so nothing would filter to her if he did not wish it. "I simply want a meal. Is it possible for you to allow me that much without us engaging in a length debate?"

"Ezra," she took a step towards him. "Why are you treating me this way? I'm only trying to help." She closed the distance between them, certain that if she could only hold him, she could dispel the anger she felt emanating from him. However, as she tried to reach for him, Ezra quickly stepped out of the way and instead made himself to the table where his hat and coat were presently waiting for him to collect them. Julia stared at the space where he had not understood what was happening to him.  

"I am not treating you anyway Julia," Ezra said sharply, struggling hard to maintain this icy demeanor he was putting up for her benefit even though she did not understand that at this moment. "I just want some space. Do you think it is possible that we could dispense with the hysterics until after I get a dose of fresh air and a meal? I promise you I will come back here as soon as possible and you can returning to your fawning. Is that acceptable to you Miss Pemberton?" 

Julia's answer was barely a whisper. "Yes, it's acceptable." 

"Good," Ezra retorted, walking slowly to the door when suddenly there was a knock. Ezra let out a groan of frustration, ignoring Julia who was standing only a few feet away from him appearing as if she was managing the barest hint of control on her emotions. "Come in!" Ezra almost barked.

"What are you doing up?" Nathan asked the minute the door swung open.

Ezra did not have a chance to answer because Julia was soon hurrying past them both without a word. The lady looked clearly distraught and Nathan wanted to call out to her but guessed at the last moment that there was probably a reason for her behavior. Ezra was no longer looking at him. The gambler had made his way to the dressing table and was putting on his jacket. He seemed to be indulging the chore with particular attention to detail, a habit recognized as one he used whenever he did not wish to speak about any subject that bothered him. 

"What happened?" Nathan walked over to Ezra who was staring at his reflection in the broken mirror after his outburst the night before.

"I merely informed her I did not require fussing around as if I were a cripple." Ezra said simply, feeling the guilt even as he repeated the words. He did not need to meet Nathan's gaze or to see the pain stricken look on Julia's face to know that he had behaved badly but at this moment, he did not really care. He wanted to be left alone without people trying to touch him and make him do things he did not wish to. 

"She wasn't fussing about you like a cripple," Nathan responded, aware that Ezra was not entirely in his right mind at the moment. The gambler was feeling the anger of what had been done to him and in the absence of those who had made him suffer his ordeal, he would take out that rage on anyone who was convenient. He had no real malice inside him, Nathan reminded himself, just anger, horror and a number of emotions in turmoil that Nathan could not begin to understand. "She was just trying to help. She loves Ezra and she was worried about you over exerting yourself. Can't say I blame her, you shouldn't be on your feet." 

"I will not allow myself to become a prisoner of my room because of what happened." Ezra shot back. "While I am hardly in the condition to do cartwheels, I can assure you I will make it to my tavern for a meal."

Nathan saw that there was no stopping him but his response was still not explanation enough for what had made Julia run out of the room barely able to keep her tears form coming. "And what else did you say to her?" He asked. 

"That is none of your business." Ezra said quietly, turning towards the door.

"You're gonna do this thing ain't ya?" Nathan called out after Ezra took a few steps. 

"What thing?" The gambler asked, still walking slowly to the open door.  

"You're going to keep pushing her until she goes away." Nathan retorted, not about to be diplomatic when he knew full well what Ezra was doing. "You rather lose her then have her find out the truth, never giving her chance to prove that she might be better than what you give her credit for."

Ezra did not answer. 

* * *

Alexandra Styles had not come to a decision. 

Even though she had spent almost every waking moment since learning about Casey's condition, pondering what she ought to do, the answer remained elusive as ever. Two days after the fact and Alex still felt as if she were trapped in a limbo from which she could not emerge until she made a choice. A year ago, Julia had asked her to perform the surgery she was about to offer Casey now and Alex had refused. Her ideals almost killed Julia and now here was Casey, facing the same horror. It was a terrible feeling indeed. As it was, Mary had only been able to offer her support and advice but unfortunately, Mary could no more make this decision for her than Alex could guess what Casey would do if she presented her solution to the young woman. In any case, Alex soon came to the conclusion that in one respect at least, Mary was right; she needed to see how Casey felt about this. The young girl had been scarce since her visit to Alex's clinic and though Alex wished she did not have to confront Casey about this issue at the Well's place, she knew she had no choice if Casey was determined to stay away. 

Vin had gone to the Apache village and though she worried for him, her concerns were split at the moment as she took Phoebe towards the Wells' homestead. In the distance, she could see the house rebuilt after some months ago when a band of Mexican outlaws had attempted to massacre settlers in and around Four Corners, had burned it to the ground. A combined effort led by Vin and the rest of the seven had seen the home quickly rebuilt despite Nettie's emphatic declarations that she would pay everyone of them back for all the time and materials contributed. It was technically a better house than the one it had replaced but as all things in place of the old; it did not have the sentimental value of its predecessor. Alex was almost to the house when she saw Nettie's wagon on the same track she was travelling. 

"Alex," the older woman smiled. "What a lovely surprise."

"Hello Nettie." Alex greeted clutching the woman's hand tightly in her own in a greeting of warmth that openly displayed their affection for each other. Nettie was part of her family, just as Casey was and Alex was not afraid to show it. "You're going to town?"

 "Yes," Nettie nodded as she released her hold of Alex's hand and took the reins once more, tugging lightly to keep the horse pulling her wagon from ambling on without her leave "Got to fill up on supplies." 

"I know how that feels." Alex said with a smile. "Is Casey home?"

"She is," Nettie sighed and the pain Alex could see in the older woman's eyes was one Alex understood too well. "She's having a bad turn today." She confessed. "Didn't sleep much last nigh because of the nightmares. I heard her cry out a couple of times but she won't admit it. Probably doesn't want to worry me I guess."  

"Nettie," Alex clutched her shoulder, trying to be of some comfort. Nettie reacted by holding her hand again, as if drawings strength from the doctor. "It will take time but she'll get better." Alex said earnestly but felt like a liar because she knew what the old woman did not. "We knew it was going to be hard." 

"Lord I want to hurt that man," Nettie swore, her lips turning in a thin line of hatred after the words passed her lips. "I want to hurt him so bad. She's just a baby."

 "I know," Alex blinked and felt herself tugged in two once again. "I'll go talk to her. Is she at the house?" 

"No," Nettie shook her head. "She's at the creek."

 After talking with Nettie a little more, Alex continued on her journey to see Casey. As suspected, Casey had hidden her condition very well from Nettie. Alex supposed she could expect nothing less since Casey was motivated out of fear at what Nettie would do if the older woman were to find out. It was probably a little less extreme than how JD would react, the doctor supposed. Both Nettie and JD understood that Casey was enduring something terrible and attributed her desire for isolation to that. Alex saw no reason to alter that perception. The less was known about the young woman's condition the better. As it was, Alex was not entirely proud of herself for breaking the doctor patience confidence by telling Mary about Casey's pregnancy. Unfortunately, at the time Alex had believed she needed another perspective to help formulate her decision. For all the good it did because her discussion with Mary had not helped in the least, only added new facets to an already complicated issue.

Alex arrived at the house and tethered Phoebe to the hitching post near the water through. The animal immediately satiated her thirst as Alex ran her palm against her rich brown flank. The creek was not far from here and Alex decided she could make the journey on foot. It was a nice day anyway so she did not mind the walk. Perhaps the trip to the creek would give her some insight she did not have at this moment. Certainly, she could use all the insight she could get. Alex took the familiar path to the small waterway, recalling the number of times she and Vin had made the journey in the moonlight, hand in hand and basking in their love for one another. She thought of him where he was and tried not to worry about how he fared with the Apaches. He had promised her that he and the Chief were old friends and Alex had believed him because her mind was too filled with thoughts about her present conundrum. However, there had been something in his eyes that made her believe now that hew as not telli ng her everything and that concerned her somewhat.

She could hear the familiar sounds of water in a slow languid current and the chirping of birds overhead as she neared the creek. Looking up, Alex felt the sunshine on her face and wished Vin were here with her. Not simply because the day was too beautiful to waste but she could use some of his strength about how. However, such thoughts were soon forgotten when she heard tears being wept by someone that was no stranger to her. Alex immediately felt her heart sinking when she recognized those sobs as that of Casey's and immediately hastened her pace to find the poor girl in order to offer her some comfort. She had just managed to break the line of tall grass and emerged to the rocks where Casey was sitting when she noticed something gleaming under the sunlight that was too hard to be anything but man made.

Alex stood in horror as she saw Casey holding out her wrist, the blade she held over the thin line of vein was poised over the skin, while the hand holding it was shaking. Casey was weeping as she struggled to complete the grisly task she had come out here to perform when she raised her eyes at Alex's arrival. "Go away."

 "What are you doing?" Alex asked aghast.

 "I'm not going to have it!" Casey cried out. She bit down hard and resolved herself to lower the blade, even though she was terribly afraid of the pain and the sight of so much blood. "I won't!"

 "Casey please!" Alex took a step forward and froze when Casey lowered the razor closer to her wrist. "Please think about this!"

"There's nothing to think of!" Casey barked, tear running down her cheeks as she spoke through her sobs. "I won't have JD looking at me like I betrayed him and I won't have Aunt Nettie be shamed by everyone because of me! This is the only way!"

"No!" Alex implored. "This is not the only way. Please, put the razor down and I promise you will think of something."

 "No!" Casey shook her head, refusing to believe her because belief that bad things wouldn't happen to good people was stupid. She had never thought anything like this could happen to her and yet it did! It was bad enough that Blackwood had touched her and made her his whore but now he had left himself inside her and she could not bear that! If it took for her to die to stop feeling this way then that was how it was going to be. "You can't think of a way out of this Alex," Casey stared at her, wishing the doctor would understand. Casey had no wish to die. She wanted to marry JD and have Nettie see their children. However, she could not stand it if he found out she was going to have Blackwood's baby and Casey could see no way to keep that from happening. "There's no way!"

 "Yes there is a way!" Alex exclaimed despair filling into her soul because she could think of nothing else to make Casey put down that knife and until she saw what the young girl was willing to do to escape her fate, did not realize how limited her options truly were.

"I ain't going out of town to have this baby!" Casey retorted. "I don't want to spend the next nine months hiding and lying to everyone about how this baby came to be! JD won't believe me if I said I was just going away!"

"You won't!" Alex pleaded as Casey turned back to the razor, its blade gleaming against the sunlight with an obscene beauty. "I promise you, you won't but you have to put it down!"

 "I don't believe in promises!" Casey shouted. "I don't believe in anything anymore!" 

"You have every right to feel that way," Alex said calmly, hoping reason would at least give her the time to reach Casey. "I can't imagine what you are feeling but killing yourself is no answer." Alex paused a moment, wondering if she was doing the right thing by making this offer to Casey but if she did not, the girl would die now. And if she did manage to stop Casey from killing herself today, what would tomorrow bring? She did not have to words to make Casey's terror disappear permanently.

"Casey I can help you." The words finally came. "And it won't involve you having the baby." 

Casey looked at her sharply, her brow furrowing because she did not understand. "What do you mean?"

Alex took a deep breath, wondering how she had come to this position. She had never intended to be forced into making this decision in this manner but the last few minutes had been strangely illuminating about what her choices were and how limiting they could be. The stark reality of it was that even though she found it an impossible decision, for Casey it was a thousand times worse. Casey stared at her in expectation, waiting for her to say the words that would make all that anguish disappear and God help her, Alex did not think she could turn back now.

"I can perform an operation." She found herself saying.

 "And operation?" Casey asked, still not understanding. 

"I can perform an operation and make you not pregnant anymore." Alex tried to put it as delicately as possible. 

"You mean, you can make it go away?" Casey replied, her lips quivering in a mixture of hope and disbelief.

"Yes," Alex nodded grimly. "I can make it go away. It's a simple enough operation. It won't take more than an hour and you'll still able to have children." 

Casey turned away. For a few seconds, she did not speak and Alex though that the idea was too much for her mind to cope with. Alex could not blame her of course. As a doctor, she could not even believe she had suggested it to Casey. This alone was enough to see her license to practice medicine stripped, not to mention what the law would do to her if she actual performed the procedure. Yet as she saw Casey in her present state, Alex knew she could not let the girl endure an ordeal it was within her power to stop. 

"You mean kill it don't you?" Casey broke the silence finally.

"At the moment, it's not actually a baby. It's a collection of cells that will become a baby." Alex explained as best she could even though the definition of life was a matter of perception. As a doctor, it was merely a developing embryo but to someone else it was life as real as the two of them standing here. There was no in between. 

However, that was not the answer that Casey needed.

"Yes," Alex nodded. "It will mean killing it." 

"But it's not alive." Casey asked once more. "Does it feel?" 

"No," Alex shook her head. "There isn't enough to feel, not yet." 

"So it won't feel or know what's happening?" She asked again.  

"No." Alex answered softly. "It won't. Casey, I've never done this before. It's not even legal and there are risks in any surgery."

"I could go to jail?" Casey stared at her. 

"We could both go to jail." Alex explained. "You for consenting to it and me for performing it." 

"You would do that for me?" Casey looked at her, there was almost awe in her voice. 

"Yes," Alex answered without hesitation. "I would do that for you. If that's what you want and you need to think very carefully if that's what you want Casey because once its done, there's no turning back. You have to live with it."

Casey continued to stare at her, starting to understand what living with such a thing would mean. "I don't know what to do." She stammered. "You have to tell me what to do."

"No," the doctor shook her head in response. "I can't tell you what to do Casey, not for this. This is a decision you're going to have to live with and its one no one else can make for you. I won't even try. I've given you a solution because it's in my power to do so and I'm not even sure it's the right thing to do but I couldn't see you suffer." 

"Thank you Alex," Casey whispered understanding in her reply just how hard it was to make the offer because of what she risked if it were known. "How much time do I have to decide?"

"A couple of weeks, no more." She replied. "I'd say the sooner the better."

 Casey nodded, understanding why. "I'll think about it."

 "You do that," Alex retorted. "You think on it." 

* * *

It was evening when Nathan Jackson entered the Standish Tavern and saw the gambler still present inside the establishment. Even though Josiah, Buck and JD occupied a table, Ezra was not seated with them. Instead Ezra was at the head of another table, playing poker with a group of strangers. Judging by the pile of money he had in his corner of the table, the gambler was heading towards one his all night gambling binges. The rest of the seven were accustomed to Ezra playing in this fashion of course, especially when he found an opponent that merited the attention. However, as Nathan observed the players at Ezra's table, there did not appear to be anyone formidable who could match Ezra for skill. They were mostly cowpokes and ranch hands having drifted into town for a little recreation. These were hardly the types that Ezra normally wasted his time on.

He should be in bed. Nathan thought to himself as he made his way to the bar to get his drink. As he crossed the room, he noticed Inez staring across the floor at the gambler, her face etched in concern. Although they were never intimate, Inez and Ezra were close in a relationship that was almost sibling in its intensity. The two had taken each other into confidence ever since Inez had strolled into the saloon and made her bid to become Ezra's partner. Her direct honesty was no match for Ezra's practiced facade of indifference and more often than not, she could get him to talk about what was bothering better than even Julia was, Nathan sometimes believed. Unfortunately, this was one instance where she would not be able to help him. 

"How long has he been here?" Nathan asked when he reached Inez. There was no need for pleasantries when she was watching the gambler closely.

"Since noon." Inez said thinly. "See that bottle?" She gestured to the half empty bottle of whiskey sitting next to Ezra.

 "What about it?" Nathan asked.  

"That's the second or third one today. He hasn't stopped drinking since he walked in here. He won't eat. All he cares about is that next drink. I've never seen him like this." The grave concern in her voice was clear.

"He'll kill himself if he keeps drinking that way." Nathan whispered. Ezra was still injured and though there was little Nathan could do for him other than prevent any infection, his excessive drinking could not be helping his condition either. By rights, he ought to be in bed resting but Nathan supposed he had enough demons to contend with at the moment to force the gambler to it. 

"What's wrong with him?" Inez looked at the healer. "Why is he behaving like this?" 

"I don't know," Nathan lied and hoped that she would not be able to see it. Inez was good at reading people. Nathan picked up his drink and walked towards the table where Ezra was presently holding court. He had no idea what to say to the gambler but knew he had to be careful with his words. Ezra's sanity was walking a fine line at the moment and anything Nathan said could tip him over the edge.  

When he reached the table, all eyes shifted to him except Ezra's. Nathan was certain the gambler had been aware of his presence the moment he walked into the room but was feeling embarrassment because of Nathan's presence in his room the night before. Nathan too had been thinking about Ezra's nightmares and how horrifically the southerner had screamed as his ordeal was revisited upon him in the form of night terrors. Nathan had spent much of the night, being there for Ezra because the healer could not find it in his heart to leave the man alone when he was in such a vulnerable state.

"Hello Ezra," Nathan greeted. The others at the table did not appreciate his intrusion. 

"Mr Jackson." Ezra said coolly, his eyes fixed on the hand before him. "How are you this evening?"

 Even though Inez had told him how much Ezra had imbibed today, Nathan could detect no traces of alcohol in his speech. His voice seemed firm and steady, almost as if he was completely sober. "You should be in bed," Nathan said gingerly. "After that fall, you shouldn't be moving around." 

"What are you his mother, boy?" One of the men sneered. 

No sooner than the words had left his lips, the man found himself staring into the barrel of a derringer. With reflexes so fast, Ezra had drawn on him and suddenly the room felt silent as a tomb. "I do believe Mr Jackson does not like being referred to in that manner." Ezra's voice was icy.

"Didn't mean anything by it," the man said nervously, lips twitching fearfully as he stared at Nathan who was almost as shocked as he was.

"Then apologize." Ezra replied pulling the trigger. The others at the table pulled away from the man in the line of fire. At their table, Buck, Josiah and JD had risen to their feet, just as astonished by Ezra's reaction but nevertheless ready to jump in if the gambler needed help.

 "Ezra, its fine." Nathan turned to him. "Put the gun down." 

"I do not think so Mr Jackson," Ezra replied not looking. "People take too many liberties at your expense. They do things with no idea how it effects others, I'll have none of it in my presence. I'll have none of it for myself or for my friends." Glaring at the man once more, he repeated himself. "Now you apologize to my friend or so help me I will kill you right here and now!"

"I'm sorry!" The man exploded in a litany of regret. "I'm sorry Mister! I didn't mean nothing by it!" There was clear terror in his eyes.

"Its okay," Nathan said slowly. "Ezra put the gun down." He looked at the gambler. 

Ezra smiled faintly and lowered the weapon. "I had no intention of harming my gambling companion." He replied meeting Nathan's gaze. I just wanted to impress upon him the folly of his actions."

"I know." Nathan replied and looked at the faces around the table. "I think maybe you guys should call it a night huh?"

The men at the table did not argue with Nathan on that point and immediately collected what was left of their winnings and vacated the table. Led by the man Ezra had almost put a bullet into, the group quickly dispersed out of the saloon, having no desire to fall prey to any more outbursts from the gambler. It took a few seconds after they had departed for things to return to some semblance of normalcy in the tavern with music and lively chatter resuming inside the establishment. When the effects of the incident had dwindled into the background, Nathan sat down at the recently vacated table next to Ezra.

"You okay?" Nathan asked.

"Everyone seems to be asking me that of late, I would not be here if I was anything but 'okay' as you put it." Ezra replied, slipping the derringer back into place and reached for his empty shot glass and the bottle at the same time.

"You should not be drinking like this." Nathan remarked. 

"I am not going to sleep any other way." Ezra replied quietly. 

"Ezra, maybe you should talk about." Nathan ventured to suggest, however he had only to look up to see the glint in Ezra's eyes to know that the gambler was not ready for that, if ever. 

"There is nothing to talk about." Ezra said coldly. "I do not wish to discuss it." 

Nathan felt silent, understanding his reluctance. It was too new for him. The attack was only two days in the past and no doubt Ezra would need a great deal of time before he could ever be comfortable with what happened to him. "Ezra," Nathan let out a deep breath. "You can't let this eat you up inside. You have friends and people who care about you, who will understand no matter what you think. You didn't ask for what happened to you and while we can't understand what you're going through, we can help. At least, let us try." 

Ezra's response was to drain his recently filled glass. As soon as he had thrown back the drink, he refilled his glass and turned to Nathan. "I will deal with this myself. All I require is to be left alone."  

With that, he pushed himself up to his feet and left the table, taking his bottle with him. 

 


	6. Reflection

 

Chris Larabee could not sleep.

He did not know whether or not it was because of the telegram he had been forced to send this morning informing the army that there was the possibility the Indians in the Territory were about to riot or that their reaction would surely engender an extreme response. Either way, he could not sleep no matter how hard he tried. He wondered if any of the seven could manage that after hearing that the Citadel was involve in the situation brewing with the Indians. In retrospect, Chris should have expected this of Hannibal Julius because the scale of destruction had all the earmarks of Julius' vanity. Once realizing that it was Julius behind this even though he had little proof only a strong hunch, the reason why the man called himself the Eagle became apparent. In ancient times, Rome was often referred to as the Eagle and someone who thought himself to be an incarnation of Julius Caesar would no difficulty adopting the appellation for himself. 

When he had told the others, they seemed to agree, especially Josiah who knew of the classical reference. Nathan, Buck, JD and Vin had conceded the scope of the operation and the resources were definitely within the capability of the Citadel to provide while Ezra whom Chris thought would have the most to offer since he was once sent to spy on Julius, said little. Then again, Ezra was not exactly himself these days. Chris wondered what was going on with the man and tried not to think too hard on that question since it was clear Ezra wanted no intrusion on his business. Chris who was intensely private himself could appreciate Ezra's need for privacy. Besides, Chris often found that Ezra preferred to solve his personal problems on his own and rarely confided in others unless necessary. 

As was his habit when he was visited with a bout of insomnia, Chris decided that he would leave his warm bed and his wife and take himself out of the house to the saloon so that his inability to sleep would not wake Mary up as well. She had too much to do all day for him to be interrupting her slumber, what with running a paper, raising two boy and keeping house. Sometimes, he marveled at what she managed to squeeze into her day and wondered how it was women could manage all that when he had trouble finding his socks. Leaving the warmth of their bed, Chris woke up with the intention of finding any saloon that was still open at this time of night. Mary was accustomed to his departures in the dead of night, aware that he was a man who sometimes needed his solitude and part of the reason he loved her so much was that she never tried to get in the way of that need.  

Chris got dressed quietly and stepped out of the house he shared with Mary and his two sons. As he emerged into the night air, he felt the customary nip of cold at his skin and shrugged it off, reminding himself that he would be plenty warm once he got himself a drink. The Standish Tavern was still open at this time of night even though the bulk of its patrons would have retired for the evening or passed out underneath the tables. Chris did not care. He would appreciate the silence anyway. Walking down the boardwalk, he soon came to the saloon. The light from inside its walls peered through the batwing doors and beckoned invitingly to passersbys.

When he entered the doors, he expected to see the place empty with Rain or one of the after hours bar tenders Inez had employed tending the counter for any patrons still left standing. He rather expected that the saloon would be near closing for the night and hoped that he could at least get a shot of whiskey before that happened. However, when he stepped into the amber light of the establishment, he found that there was at least one patron left in the Standish Tavern and he was helping himself without any help from the bartender, who had already left for the evening.

Ezra was seated at their usual table, working his way quite efficiently through a bottle of whiskey as he played an unsteady game of solitaire. It appeared as if he had been there for quite some time since his burgundy coat was hanging from the edge of his chair along with his hat. When Chris walked into the room, he raised his eyes to the gunslingers and flashed a smile before raising his glass towards Chris in a mixture of salutation and a toast. 

"Mr Larabee," Ezra declared, his words slurred. "How nice to see you. Join me?" 

Chris stared at Ezra for a moment, feeling cautious even though he did not know why. "Sure," Chris nodded and made a brief detour to the bar in order to find a clean glass before arriving at the table a short time later.  

"Just finished up one of your late night games?" Chris asked as he poured himself a drink from Ezra's half-empty bottle.

"No, not at all." Ezra remarked topping up his own glass. "I'm just here for a little midnight drink." 

"It way past midnight Ezra," Chris pointed out. "And I think you've had more than a drink." 

"Oh come now," Ezra stared at him reproachfully. "You are the last person to lecture me on the vices of multiple shots of whiskey, not when you were such an adept practitioner in your bachelor days."

Chris stiffed a little, reminding himself not to take offence at the remark because Ezra was pretty drunk. However, why the man was in such a state of inebriation was a matter of concern to Chris who knew how to recognise trouble when he saw it. He had seen Ezra drink before and there had been more than one occasion when both men had been so intoxicated neither could barely stand but this was not like those fond moments. There was none of the laughter and the foolishness that came with indulging in one drink too many. There was more to this than some need to imbibe excessively for Chris had never seen Ezra drink like this. No sooner than he drained his glass, did he fill it to the brim once more and down its contents just as swiftly. Chris who knew all about what it felt like to drown oneself in liquor in order to forget, recognised the overt signs he was seeing in Ezra. 

"So what are we drinking to?" Chris asked as he watched Ezra fill his glass again with growing concern. 

"Whatever you like," Ezra declared. "What time is it now? We could drink to that." He laughed but there was no humor in it. In fact, his chuckle seemed cold and devoid of feeling, like the rest of him.

It was more than just the usual facade of indifference he wore around himself to mask his true emotions from others, Chris decided. At least when he did that, the rest of the seven knew that there was something to hide but now it appeared as if there was nothing behind the facade. All those doubts that lingered in his mind since Ezra's return to town following his abduction resurfaced in full force. His reaction to Julia, the look in his eyes, all of it started playing on Chris's consciousness, daring him to defy the puzzle of Ezra Standish's pysche right now. 

"Fine with me," Chris said quietly and took a sip of his own glass, his eyes watching Ezra closely. 

Ezra's eyes seemed to drift as they drank quietly for a moment and he caught Chris studying him. "I wish you would not to do that." 

"Do what?" Chris asked, perfectly aware the gambler had noticed the scrutiny. "I'm just making sure you don't fall off your chair and crack your head open. Not that you'd feel it anyway."  

"Well thank you," Ezra retorted in exaggerated feeling "You do know how to keep an eye on us don't you, except where its really needed." He muttered into his glass before tipping the contents down his throat. 

"What's that supposed to mean Ezra?" Chris asked once more, surprising himself by how well he was taking Ezra's drunken taunts but the truth was, in the state Ezra was presently in, his manner was of more concern to the gunslinger than his words. Something was terribly wrong with the man because in the three years Chris had known him; he had never seen Ezra like this.

"Nothing," Ezra retorted sharply as if he had forgotten himself and was angry for his words. "I think its time for another drink." He started to lean over for the bottle when Chris's hand reached out and locked his fingers around Ezra's wrist.

"I think maybe you have had enough." Chris held the southerner'shand in his grip and refused to allow Ezra to reach the bottle. 

"I think you should release me immediately." Ezra warned. His voice became icy, with no traces of the slur that was prevalent in his speech a second ago. 

"Or what Ezra?" Chris met his eyes directly, challenging him to answer. 

For a moment, both men stared at each other and there came an instant when Chris realised he had no idea what Ezra was going to do, because he was looking into the eyes of a stranger. Unconsciously, he shifted into the mindset he wore whenever an enemy was near, his hand sliding towards his peacemaker. Would Ezra draw? Chris honestly did not know and they both stood there for an eternity of time waiting for each other to act.  

Ezra's derringer clicked out of his sleeve and Chris completed the journey to his peacemaker as both men drew on each other.

Time seemed to freeze as Chris stared down the barrel of the tiny gun wondering whether or not Ezra would really pull the trigger and more importantly how he had found himself in this situation in the first place, with his gun aimed at one of his best friends. Ezra on the other hand seemed to have no difficulties with the quandary he was facing. He merely stared at Chris with the same indifference he had been displaying since his ordeal. 

"Is that how its going to be Ezra?" Chris asked coolly, aware Ezra was running on something and it wasn't just liquor. "You gonna shoot me for that drink?" 

Ezra blinked as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes at that statement. "Of course not."  

The facade dropped for an instant and Chris was allowed to see the wave of shame that followed its descent. Ezra closed his eyes and lowered the gun in his hand. "I think you are right," he said softly. "I think I might have had enough for tonight."

Chris holstered his own weapon and stared at Ezra hard, a part of him still wrapped in disbelief over what just  took place. "Ezra, what's happened?"

"Nothing that I care to talk about." Ezra retorted as he slipped the derringer into place and turned towards his coat and hat. "I shall be fine Mr Larabee, I just need to sleep it off." 

Whatever was plaguing Ezra was not going to be discarded by a simple night's slumber. Whatever was wrong with the southerner required more than that to remedy it and for Chris, the imperative to find out the truth was had suddenly become vital. He had seen the place that Ezra was presently occupying and knew from experience that one did not get there without something terrible taking place to help them along. Chris had resided in that limbo world of darkness for years following Sarah and Adam's death, with only Buck's faint voice in the distance, reminding him there was a world outside. Until Four Corners, Chris had been ready to die there and right now, it looked as if Ezra was making that same decision unless someone reached him. There was no way to do that unless Chris could understand what terrible thing had prompted his journey to that dark place and he had a feeling Ezra was not going to tell him.

Ezra started to walk out of the saloon once he had composed himself. Chris could only stare after him, his mind unable to shake the belief that he was looking at a man who was preparing himself to die. 

* * *

Ezra Standish was avoiding her.

Why this was so, she did not understand but its fact was undeniable. When she attempted to see him at his room at the Mrs Satler's lodging house, her requests for entry was refused through a lock door. He would not even send her away face to face. This went on for two days until Julia was so distraught she had no idea what to do about it. She hated talking about their relationship to anyone else because Ezra was fiercely private and would not appreciate her appealing to his friends for help but she was at a loss at how else to reach him. Less than a week ago, he had spoken to her about marriage and now he had trouble even opening the door to her. With certainty she knew that whatever had happened to him stemmed from his being taken prisoner by those men he had been forced to escape from but nothing he had told her about that encounter justified his behavior. 

Julia recalled how he had reacted to the others and how he had reacted to her and knew that whatever it was that was wrong with him, his hostility seemed focussed on her most of all. She could not forget how he had behaved when she had kissed him. For a moment, it almost felt as if he was repulsed by her touch and yet she knew that to be impossible. How many hours had they spent during their nights together, explorers sensuously charting each other's skin, finding pleasure in every touch? Why did he disgust her so much now? She wondered insanely if Diana Belladonna did not somehow influence him. Had he made love to the beautiful chanteuse only to discover his relationship with Julia to be an inconvenience? That was a possibility that Julia could not endure but nonetheless it could be the truth. Unfortunately, everything she feared was only speculation because she could not even see him face to face to find out for sure. 

Julia knew she had to talk to him privately and the manner in which he was behaving towards her lately, indicated that he would not allow her that audience if she simply requested it. In desperation, she used the key he had given her to his room at the lodging house and slipped inside, hoping that when he returned, they could finally discuss what was happening to the relationship and why he was pushing her away. As anticipated he was not there when she arrived and as the hours passed, Julia started to wonder whether or not this was such a good idea in the first place. Finally, after what seemed forever, she dozed off on his bed, the scent of him lulling her to sleep. 

She had no idea how much time had passed before the sound of a key opening the lock to the door awoke her from her slumber. Wakefulness filled her bleary eyes as she sat up on the rumpled quilt cover of his bed and saw Ezra entering the room. The southerner paused upon seeing her and the look in his eyes was one of irritation, rather than any pleasure at see her. He let out a heavy sigh as she was some unpleasant chore to be dealt with and Julia's heart could have broken from that reaction alone but reminded herself that this was never meant to be easy. Something had happened to him, something that he could not tell her and was doing his damnedest to keep her from learning if the hostility in his manner was any indication. No matter how nasty he became, Julia braced herself for it. She was here to get answers and she was not leaving until she had them. 

"What are you doing here?" Ezra asked after he had collected himself from the surprise of seeing her in his room. He did not wait for her answer as he turned around and shut the door behind him even though he was resolved that she was not staying any longer than necessary.  

Julia brushed her hair into place and tried not to be affected by the annoyed tone of his voice. She straightened her dress as she stood up from his bed, wanting to state her case looking him in the eyes. "I wanted to see you and since you've been indisposed every time I call on you, I guessed this would be the only way to accomplish that." 

"Julia it is late," Ezra declared impatiently as he removed his jacket and turned to the claw hook awaiting it on the wall. "Can we not discuss this tomorrow?"  

"So you can spend the whole day avoiding me again?" Julia accused as she walked towards him, determined that he was not going to brush her off like some inconvenience. "I'm sorry, I don't think that's acceptable. I want to talk about this now. You're acting like I am some kind of stranger and we're more than Ezra." 

"Perhaps you over estimate our relationship." He returned snidely. "We are lovers."

"We are more than that." Julia stated firmly, aware of what he was doing and not about to let his cruel words send her running from the room like a frightened child. She knew precisely what she meant to Ezra Standish and whatever had caused him to become this stranger would not ever change that fact for Julia Pemberton. "You know it and I know it. So let's put aside this charade of indifference and talk about what's happening to you."

"I have no wish to discuss anything" He spoke smoothly.  

However even while he was hanging up his coat and his hat on, Julia could see the tension in his muscles and the hands that were threatening to turn into fists with each word escaping her lips. She should have been cautious because the rage building inside of him was apparent but she could not pull back. Now more than ever, Julia was convinced that Ezra was suffering something a great deal more serious than the after effects of a kidnapping and though she could not imagine what that could be, she was not about to slink away and let him face it all on his own. No matter how hard it became, she was not going to let him chase her away. 

"I'd like you to leave." Ezra growled as he remained with his back facing her because looking into those emerald colored eyes was simply too hard. If he allowed himself to be swayed by the promise of her good intentions, he would break and he could not afford to. There was no disillusion that could ever make him believe that she would react to what Julius had done to him with anything but utter contempt. How could she be any different? No, he would tell her nothing. He would rather she hate him than have that. 

"Ezra, please," Julia came towards him, unable to believe that they were addressing each other like this. She could still remember what it was like making love to him less than a week ago, where they had conspired happy dreams after deciding to bind themselves to each other. How could things change so fast? "Let me in," she pleaded. "Tell me what's happening to you baby." She grabbed his shoulder and made her face him. 

Ezra pulled himself away from her as if scalded. "Its time for you to leave." He retorted, clearly shaken by her attempt to make physical contact with him. He had to take a deep breath and steady himself inwardly before he could look at her again. His composure was shattered just thinking of her hands against his skin, touching him and wanting him like Julius had wanted him. How could he ever stand a woman touching him like that when he could only remember how it had been when a man had done it?  

"Go home." He said unkindly.  

Ezra wished she would just go away. Why did she have to prolong this? He did not want her anywhere near him. When he looked at her, it was just a reaffirmation of how much Julius had taken from him. Did she have to keep persisting in her demand to know what was wrong? Ezra could not bear the thought of Julia knowing, of seeing the disgust in her eyes when she realised that he had been bent over on his hands and knees and taken like some whore! Isn't that what Julius had called him?  

And how was the man wrong?  

Ezra had been so terrified of Julius giving him to the rest of his men that he had remained in that humiliating position, letting the man use him. He almost gagged recalling how it had felt to feel Julius thrusting into him, to hear the man whisper his cruel taunts and his threats to give Ezra to a whole slew of violators? Ezra forced the image away, all the while wondering how could he have been aroused by Julius touch. How could he have been so submissive when it was better to have just died! He knew immediately why he had obeyed. The very idea of given to Julius' men would not mean death but having to endure this horror again and again and that was something Ezra had not been able to stand no matter how terrible it felt having Julius rape him.

Julia saw the reaction in his face, the despair and utter horror that flashed for an instant in his eyes. It was brief but enough to make her jaw drop open out of sheer astonishment. "For God sakes, tell me what's wrong?" She demanded, her strong voice breaking into sobs as she saw the suffering in his face that was like nothing she could even begin to imagine. "What did they do to you? What they do to take you away from me like this? "  

Ezra could not listen to her any more. Closing his eyes he hardened his heart to her empathic pleas and spoke into a slow, deliberate voice. "Madam, you will leave, now." 

"Madam?" She blinked and cried out. "We're not strangers Ezra! I am your fiancée and I love you! What ever it is that's making you like this can't be so bad that I would ever stop loving you. You have to believe that. I promise you! Ezra let me in and we'll go through this together."

"I DON"T NEED YOUR HELP!" He shouted in fury because she was starting to get through the defenses he had erected to keep her out. Ezra knew that if he listened to her anymore, he would tell her the truth and then it would all be over. She would run from his in revulsion and disgust. He could not bear that no matter how much assurance she gave him. "I just want you to get out!" 

"I won't leave." She barked back with just as much intensity even though subconsciously, her mind was issuing her all kinds of warnings to withdraw. There was too much rage in his voice to believe that he could control himself forever but Julia could not give up. It was not her mind she was acting with but rather her heart. Her heart, just like the rest of her was his. Julia could not let this be, not until she knew she had tried every possible way to reach him and if necessary, risk everything as well. "I won't let you push me out of your life! Not without a reason! I know something happened to you out there. I know that there is more to it than you being kidnapped! What happened to you? Who actually took you?"

"SHUT UP!" Ezra roared, her questions becoming to close for comfort. He could feel that he was reaching a point of no return with his temperament. He had pulled a gun on Chris Larabee already tonight, he had no need to allow this rage inside him escalate any further than it should. "JUST SHUT UP!" He pushed grabbed her under the chin and held her face in his hands. "Just let this go and leave me alone! I do not want you! I never want you again! Will you cease your incessant harping and get out of my sight? Do you not understand that you are a meal I've had my fill of? I am tired of you Julia, sick and tired. How plain must I be? You bore me!"  

"Is that the best you can do?" She sobbed, tear running down her cheeks as his vicious words tore at her. "You're going to have to do better!" 

Her words snapped the reason inside of him and Ezra reacted almost purely on reflex. His mind and body disengaging from each other in that terrible instant of blood red fury. The emotions coursing through Ezra forced his body to act defensively before his mind considered what it was he was doing. He lashed out hard and connected with Julia's face in a backhanded blow. Knuckles met flesh in a hard slap and suddenly she was no longer standing. It felt good to lash out, he thought in the seconds following its execution but the euphoria did not last.  

It came and went in a split second of time before the cold soberness of reality descended over his mind and he understood what he had just done. In almost slow motion, he watched her stumble backwards from him, her head lolling to the side from the blow only to fall down on the floor, landing on her side that forced from her soft lips, a small cry of pain. Only then, when he saw her fall, did that red haze of anger begin to recede and the realization that something unforgivable had been done dawned upon him. If anything penetrated the unreality of the moment, it was the second when that voice full of shock, hurt and pain reached his ears. God, what had he done? 

"Julia?" Ezra called out in a small voice, coming to his senses as he saw the woman he loved on the floor of his room  _after_  he had hit her. He had hit her. Julia. A woman. The southerner was mortified at his behavior. How could he have hit her? What was going on inside him that would allow him to assault her this way? He was a gentleman! Gentlemen did not hit women! A swell of shame rose from the pit of him, almost equal to the shame he felt at what Julius had done to him. He closed his eyes and bit down hard, trying to keep himself from screaming in rage at how he could have allowed his emotions to run so rampant? Why couldn't Julius kill him? Why could not the man have simply killed him rather than leave him to turn into this monster who lashed out at women! Especially the woman he loved! God, he really wanted to die because this had never been about hurting her. Of all the people he had wanted spared from this, it was Julia.  

"Julia?" He immediately rushed over to her side.

 Julia rolled onto a sitting position at the sound of his voice. She clutched her face and winced because her cheek was flaring in pain and her left ear throbbed as the blood rushed to her swelling flesh. She could hear ringing in her ears as her disorientation began to dissipate. Julia looked up to see Ezra coming forward and even recognized the remorse on his face. However, at that particular moment, she did not care very much for it or him, for that matter. When he had hit her, did Julia finally understand that nothing she did would help him unless he was willing to let her in and he was not willing, that much was clear to her now.  

"Don't touch me." She spoke quietly but its edge was enough to stop him from advancing any nearer to her. 

Ezra froze in his tracks, swallowing hard as he tried to explain himself and knew that he could not unless he was prepared to tell the truth and he was not prepared to that ever. All he could do was apologise even though he knew that it would not be enough. "I am sorry." He whispered, unable to meet her eyes for the shame he felt. "I did not mean to harm you. I never meant to harm you." 

"Well you did," she spoke through her tears as she stood up, determined to accept no help from him.  

A line had been crossed and they both knew it. Where they went after this was as much a mystery to her as it was to Ezra but Julia knew that there was nothing more to be done here. Not until he was ready and he was far from it now. Her head swam and she felt dizzy but she was going to walk out of here with her dignity at least. She would keep her pride because that was all she had left. Julia noted the expression on Ezra's face as he stared back at her and was consoled by the fact that at least something out of this entire miserable encounter had reached him since nothing else had managed that feat.  

"I'm going Ezra," she replied brushing the loose strands of hair out of her face and dried her tears. She paused to wipe the sliver of blood running down her nose before resuming her journey to the door.  

"Let me walk you home....." He started to say but the glare she shot him kept Ezra from completing the sentence.  

"No." She said with as much coldness that he had displayed to her earlier. Julia made her way to the door slowly, not wanting to show him that the left side of her body where she had landed hard on the floor ached just as much as her face. In the last few minutes, things had become clear to her and as much as she wanted to help him, she was at a dead end unless he was a willing participant. 

"Julia, I am sorry." Ezra cried out helplessly, finding in the last few seconds that he did not want her to leave like this. He did not know what it actually meant to lose her until she gave him that hard look which said so clearly that she wanted him to stay away from her. It hurt so badly he could barely stand it and yet he knew that he had done everything to deserve it. "I did not mean to hurt you."

Julia pulled open the door. She would have left without saying a word if she could but somehow, she did recognise the genuine regret in his voice even if he was not ready to do much else to reconcile the situation between them. She paused a moment and took a deep breath, feeling the pain become more than just a physical condition but rather an emotional one. She knew that this was the right thing to do but the right thing was tearing her apart inside. Tears spilled down her cheeks again but thankfully with her back facing him, Ezra could not see them.  

"I know you are sorry Ezra but you still did what you did. I love you and you mean more to me than any human being alive but I am leaving because you are in no shape to talk to me. What you did makes that plain. I don't know whether you will be  _ever_  be able to talk to me but until you do, we have nothing more to say to each other."  

There was a finality to her words that effected even Julia but she knew she had said to much to turn back. It was all up to him now. 

With that she left the room and Ezra could only stare as she went. He stood there long after she had gone, still staring at the open doorway, feeling a thousand knives impale his heart at her words and worst yet, knowing that she had spoken nothing but the truth. Unfortunately, he knew that it was for the best that she walked out of his life because he could no longer guarantee that breaking her heart was the worst thing that he could do and he would rather die than harm Julia again. 

If she stayed in his life, Ezra had no doubt that it would happen again. He had become the reflection in his broken mirror.

* * *

 

The first thing Chris Larabee did that morning was make his way to Nathan Jackson's infirmary. No matter what the healer had told him, Chris was certain that after his encounter with Ezra at the saloon last night, there was something being hidden from him. Even though he hated to accuse any member of the seven of lying, he was absolutely convinced now that Nathan had not told him the entire truth about Ezra that night when Nathan had fronted at his porch, to inform him about Ezra's return. He had felt it then, that moment of lingering hesitation where Nathan appeared as if he had more to say than had already been and held back. Chris knew for a fact that Nathan was an honorable man. In fact the healer's self righteousness was damned annoying at times but Chris relied upon it because Nathan kept them all centered on what was right whenever such judgements became difficult to call. Chris told himself as he strode purposefully up the stairs towards the set of room that acted as Nathan's clinic that Nathan would not lie without good reason.

However on this occasion, good reason or not, Chris wanted to know what it was.  

Upon reaching Nathan's door, Chris rapped hard against the wooden surface and waited. There was a pause no longer than a few seconds before Chris heard the movement within the room beyond it. Footsteps followed that irrefutable signs of occupation before the doorknob twisted and swung back, with Nathan standing in the doorway.

"Chris," Nathan said somewhat surprised to see Chris so early. "What's up?" 

"We need to talk." Chris replied coolly, his eyes meeting Nathan's with deep scrutiny.  

Nathan recognized Chris' manner to know that the gunslinger wanted their discussion conducted indoors and immediately withdrew into his clinic, gesturing Chris to follow. Nathan's clinic was also his home and he led Chris to the stove where he had been in the process of brewing some coffee. Pouring Chris a cup, Nathan could tell that Chris had something important on his mind because he did not speak until they were both seated and facing each other, almost as if they were two chess players about to begin a game. 

"Want to tell me what this is about?" Nathan asked finally. 

"Yeah," Chris nodded slowly. "This is about Ezra."  

Nathan exhaled loudly and supposed this was inevitable. The manner in which Ezra was behaving the last few days made it impossible for anyone not to notice that something was wrong. Chris was sharper than most people and it did not surprise Nathan that in his quest for answers at what may be ailing the gambler, Chris would eventually recall how uneasy he had been when he had first told Chris about Ezra's return to town. "What about Ezra?" He asked gingerly, not wishing to break his word to Ezra unless he really had to. 

"Cut the crap Nathan," Chris retorted. "What happened to him?" 

"I can't tell you." Nathan said weakly, aware that his answer would not satisfy Chris on any level. "I gave him my word."

"Really?" Chris stared at him hard. "I'm going to tell you this only once and you can decide whether or not your word to him is going to mean anything if he kills himself." 

Nathan's eyes met Chris in shock. "What do you mean? Has he tried something?"  

"No," Chris shook his head. "He hasn't tried anything that overt yet. He's doing everything he can to see that someone puts a bullet into him. Trust me, I've been there, I know all the signs of what he's doing. I found him in the saloon last night drinking." 

"Ezra's always been a little heavy on the fire water Chris," the healer pointed out.  

"Not...like...this." Chris said slowly and the iciness in his voice indicated that he was tired of Nathan's attempts to avoid answering his question. "He pulled a gun on me Nathan. I think that there was a second there where he didn't give a damn enough to pull the trigger."

"Oh Lord," Nathan groaned, burying his face into his hand for a moment before he raised his head and composed himself. "Chris, I'm sorry. I didn't realise it had gotten that bad."

Chris softened a little, seeing now what a morale crisis Nathan found himself in. It was a hard thing to break a man's word and Chris could tell Nathan was torn between that duty and doing what was best for Ezra. Chris could appreciate it but now it was time for Nathan to share that burden so steps could be made to help Ezra before it was too late. "It’s going to get worse unless we help him. Now what happened to him Nate?" 

Nathan swallowed thickly, trying to found the words in his mouth but they felt offensive even to speak of. Suddenly, he understood why Ezra found it so unthinkable to live with when he could not even bring himself to say it. Unfortunately, he had to say it because Chris was expecting an answer and it was long past time that Nathan provide him with one.

"I think he got took." Nathan finally answered. 

At first, Chris stared at him not understanding. It did not register. He was almost about to ask for a clarification when his disbelief at the revelation dissipated, allowing his brain to fully comprehend what Nathan had just told him. Once it did, Chris felt his insides tighten and something like disgust, outrage and horror swept through him like a tidal wave. After everything that Chris Larabee had seen of or heard of in his life time, he had come to believe that there was very little that had the power to shock him. When he had demanded the truth from Nathan, Chris had not been certain of what he was expecting but he sure as hell knew that it was not this. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought it could be this.  

"You mean someone……" Chris started to say but the words died in the speaking because he could not even bring himself to say it.

"Someone took him." Nathan repeated himself, seeing the astonishment in Chris’ eyes even after it filled comprehension. "He won’t say who. He’s so ashamed he can’t even talk about it."  

Chris could hardly blame Ezra for that. If it was him, Chris could not say that he would be vocal about the subject either. He tried to imagine what Ezra must be feeling at the moment and could not honestly say that he could even begin to understand what the gambler must be enduring. Ezra was a proud man, he did not ask for help and he certainly prided himself in being able to handle most situations but who could be prepared for this? No man ever thought that something like this could happen to them. Being taken was something that happened to women. It was an act committed by men who were scum and always would be. Chris could not even begin to imagine the vileness that would make one man do this to another. It was so dishonorable. There were rules of conduct by which all men adhered to. It was not a spoken rule but something passed on from fathers to sons. The man who did not understand that, who would do the unthinkable was no better than an animal. 

Of course Chris was not entirely naïve. He knew that things like this happened and sometimes it was not even an involuntary experience. When he had been Inmate 78 in that hellish prison, he had seen it take place between men who were just like him. They were far from being ‘funny cowboys’ as Buck referred to men who indulged in the company of other men. Chris was not entirely comfortable with the whole aspect of it but a man’s sexual proclivities were his own business. Did Ezra actually think that because he was taken, that his friends would label him as such? The idea was a little insulting but upon further consideration, Chris appreciated what was running through Ezra’s mind in the wake of such a brutal assault.  

"Jesus Christ." Chris whispered softly and straightened up in his chair. "Nathan, you should have told me." 

"Chris he wouldn’t even tell me." Nathan replied, trying to explain himself because he had never felt right about keeping this to himself but was bound by his word to Ezra and his fears for the gambler’s state of mind if his secret was revealed. "The only reason I found out was because I had to treat him when he got back." 

"Treat him?" Chris looked up at the healer. "Exactly how badly was he hurt?" 

Nathan paused a moment, trying to remember exactly all that he had done for Ezra. "The injuries were mostly internal, bruising and tearing that comes with that kind of attack." Nathan had no wish to go into detail and judging by the clenching of Chris’ jaw as he spoke, he suspected that it was probably wise not to do so when Chris was barely able to restrain his anger and outrage. "I told him to take it easy but there wasn’t much I could do but to give him some medication and hope there would be no infection."

"With the amount of alcohol in his system, I seriously doubt that will be a problem." Chris retorted. 

"I’m sorry I kept it from you Chris," Nathan apologized, seeing the depth of the man’s sympathy for Ezra and was glad that he was able to tell someone and not share this secret alone. Even though Nathan hated breaking his word to Ezra, he was certain now that it was for the man’s own good. If Chris was right, if he was embarking on some self destructive course, then they had better do something to help him while they still could. "I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid if I told you and the others what had happened, he might hurt himself. When I was back in the plantation, I knew people who had gone through the same thing and its almost always the same. They wanted to die." 

Chris nodded in understanding, aware that Nathan’s actions had not been prompted out of any subterfuge but rather a concern for Ezra’s well being. "I know that Nathan." Chris spoke quickly, wanting the healer to know that he did not hold him accountable for trying to behave honorably. "I just wish I knew what to do about it." 

"He’s going to kill himself the way he’s going. If not from the drink, from the way you mentioned a moment ago." Nathan pointed out. 

"Yes he will." Chris agreed readily. "So I take it he wasn’t kidnapped by a bunch of old poker buddies wanting to even the score." 

"I don’t know," Nathan confessed. "It may be that’s how it went down but I don’t think so. I think how it happened is entirely different from what he told us. I think that story was just something he made up to keep us from finding out the truth." 

"Julius." Chris stated without even realizing the word had left his lips. The name had surfaced almost on impulse, like a gut reaction that demanded to be heard even though there was nothing to substantiate it. "It was Julius." 

"What?" Nathan exclaimed because as preposterous as it sounded, when it sunk into the brain it made sense. "Did you say Julius?" 

"Yeah," Chris nodded slowly. "Julius." 

"Because Ezra spied on him before?" Nathan asked, unable to imagine that alone could deserve such an appalling act of vengeance.  

"It wasn’t just because Ezra spied on him," Chris declared, remembering how large a part Ezra had played in their last encounter with the Citadel. "Think about it. Ezra found out all about his plans for the railroad and gave us time to fight back. We killed a lot of his men because of that warning and put a stop to his plan to destroy the railway. Not to mention Ezra rescued Mary when he had kidnapped her. Julius has got a lot to be angry at Ezra for. Besides, the timing of this is more than coincidental." 

"Coincidental maybe," Nathan was not about to agree completely just yet. "But is he capable of doing something like that?’

Chris had to think about it now that the question was put to him. Was Julius capable of such behaviour? During the war, his manner had always been a little unusual. He supposed Julius could be that way inclined but ven Chris could not say for certain whether or not the man was capable of violating another in such a despicable way. However, during the war Julius has been more than prepared to let his men face certain death at the front lines while he remained safely away from the fighting and he had shot Chris in the back. Was it such a leap from that to what he had done to Ezra? Somehow Chris believed it so.  

"Yeah, I think he’s more than capable." Chris said grimly.

"So now you know," Nathan sighed. "What are we going to do about it?"

"I don’t know," Chris said automatically, not about to pretend that he had any solution to Ezra’s personal trauma. As it was, he was having a hard time believing any of this could be possible but he had seen the evidence of it in Ezra’s behaviour of late. The man was bleeding inside out and it was only a matter of time his self destruction reached critical mass and it became too late to help him. Unfortunately, wanting to help Ezra and knowing how to, were two different things. Chris had no idea how to even broach the subject with the gambler, considering what Nathan said about his abhorrence to anyone knowing what had happened to him. Still Chris refused to sit by and do nothing. Ezra was not just one of the men he rode with, he was Chris’ friend and a member of the seven.  

He remembered how he had been after his addiction to the Ambrosia that had made him Laurel Chase's creature. If not for Vin and Mary, he would not have pulled through it. However, the one thing that had forced him to try and heal was the knowledge of the friends who were more than ready to support him no matter how dangerous he had become. Granted, Ezra's situation was slightly different but the devastating efforts were exactly the same. They had both been forced into a situation that was normally unimaginable for either and while Ezra’s was a thousand times more personal, Chris was certain that if he knew that his friends did not consider any of this his fault, he might be able to recover. Nevertheless, Nathan was correct about not letting this go any further than necessary. Ezra’s self respect, what was left of it that is, hinged on his humiliation remaining a secret.  

Thus, whatever needed to be done to aid his recovery, it would have to be undertaken by Chris and Nathan alone.  

"What about Julia?" Nathan asked, since it was unfair to ignore the lady in this discussion. Ezra was her fiancee after all. She had a right to know what was the cause of his abberant behaviour. 

"We tell her nothing." Chris said without hesitation. 

"Chris," Nathan objected immediately. "We can’t just not tell her." 

"If you think Ezra is ashamed now, you don’t want to see how he’s gonna be if he finds out Julia knows." He said firmly. "He may be able to stand us knowing but not her. Telling her would be a big mistake. When he’s a little more stable perhaps." 

"Its not fair." The healer declared defiantly. "You haven’t been seeing how he is around her. She needs to know." He insisted. 

"Nathan I believe you," Chris replied, not about to refute anything Nathan had said. "But you gotta understand that this strikes at heart of what it is to be a man. Ezra feels like less than that right now because of what Julius did to him. He’s angry that it could happen to him to begin with, not to mention being able to do nothing to stop it. If he’s pushing Julia away, its because he rather her hate him then find out." 

"She loves him." Nathan stated absolutely on that point. "It wouldn’t matter to her." 

"You know that and I know that," Chris agreed. "He doesn’t. We need to take this one step at a time and the first thing we got to do is convince him that we don’t blame him for what’s happened and we’ve got to do it fast because it won’t be long before he  _does_  get himself killed." 

Nathan did not like the idea of keeping things from Julia but Chris was right. Ezra was going to have a hard enough time accepting that Chris knew let alone Julia. The healer prayed inwardly that he had done the right thing in confiding to Chris about Ezra’s ordeal. In truth, he had no idea whether or not Chris knowing made things better or worse but he had to admit, it was good to know that he was not carrying this secret alone. Now if they could only convince Ezra the same, perhaps there might be some way to stop the gambler from doing something they all regretted. 

* * *

Julia hated hats. 

There were some women who could wear them and make it look effortless. Personally, Julia could never abide the pins and clips needed to hold the damned things in place. Nevertheless under the circumstances, she had little choice but to wear one. Despite her hopes against it, she had awoken this morning to look in the mirror and find herself staring at the reflection of an ugly bruise forming under her left eye and cheek. When she tried to conjure up a plausible explanation as to how she had come by it, Julia knew the convenient excuse that she had fallen or walked into a wall was not going to be sufficient. The bruise had the decided shape of a fist and no doubt if anyone saw her, they would come to the same conclusion and demand who had inflicted it upon her.  

She had no wish to tell anyone that it was Ezra who was responsible for it. While she did not excuse his behavior, she knew that he had not meant to do it and he had been genuinely sorry after. Unfortunately, she doubted any of the seven would be as understanding if they were to learn that he had harmed her as he did. She shuddered to think what someone like Buck Wilmington might do. Inez had told her about Buck’s dislike for men who hit women and Julia had no wish to lessen Ezra’s standing in the eyes of his friends. He was going through a rough patch, she told herself and while she was no closer to helping him solve it, she loved him and was determined to protect him.  

Julia had planned on staying indoors for as long as it took for the bruise to heal but the unfortunate reality of it was, she was a woman with a business that required her presence to run it. While she could delegate some of it, there were duties that simply could not be given to anyone else and to her utter chargin, Julia realised she had errands to run that could no wait either. It was for this reason that she had resorted to shifting through her wardrobe, hoping to find the hat that could conceal the mark on her face. Her plan was simple; to undertake everything she needed to do without running into anyone she knew. If she could manage that, then she could worry about what to do tomorrow and every day after that.  

When she left the house, she was wearing a wide brimmed hard that cast a shadow over her face that would make her injury less noticeable if she hurried past those who mattered. However, if she paused and allowed them to have a look at her, there would be no hiding it and Julia was feeling terrible enough about the entire situation to have to explain things as well. She had no idea where her relationship with Ezra was headed the way he was at this time but she knew it would only make things worse if this were to come out as well. Julia made a brisk pace towards town, hoping to run her errands as quickly as possible so that she could withdraw into the safety of her home and hide for a few days. 

However, as luck would have it, the first person she ran into that morning was Josiah Sanchez.

Julia cursed under her breath because of all the people she could have run into, the preacher was the one she least wanted to see. Their close friendship made it easy for Josiah to spot a lie from her and she had no wish to deceive him about anything. The preacher’s route told Julia he was headed to his church, most likely to continue the restoration work he had begun since coming to Four Corners. It was well known in town that the church was Josiah’s pet project which he undertook during the intervals when he was not defending Four Corners as one of its peacekeepers. 

Julia had hoped to duck into Gloria Potter’s store before he saw her but had little choice when he tipped his hat in her direction. With a sigh, she knew she could not avoid him without raising suspicion and greeted him politely in the boardwalk that ran past the premises.

The first thing that Josiah noticed about Julia was the fact that she was wearing a hat. She almost never wore one and there was something about the wide brim that made him suspicious. Initially, he told himself he was being foolish, that it was a woman’s perogative to wear whatever she liked but something in her manner told him that she was not pleased to see him and that made him scrutinise her even more deeply. 

"Julia." Josiah responded upon reaching her. "That’s a lovely hat." 

"Thank you Josiah," she remarked trying to keep her head lowered, so that he could not see what she was attempting to hide. "I felt like a change." 

"It’s a lady’s perogative, I hear." Josiah nodded, his eyes trying to see past the brim of the floral hat that seemed exaggerated somehow as if its purpose was to mask rather than to offer shade from the sun. "It becomes you." 

"You are a flatterer." Julia laughed. "You are going to church?" She asked.

 "I am," he nodded. "I have some pews that need varnishing." 

"I’ll take your word for it." She smiled nervously. 

Josiah was starting to get more than suspicious. He was getting worried. As a student of human behaviour, he knew when someone was lying to him and better yet, when someone was trying to get past him. She was not simply on her way somewhere else and was rushed, she was trying to leave before he discovered whatever it is she was trying to hide. It took no feat of genius to guess that whatever it was she was attempting to conceal from him was beneath that hat she was wearing and her inability to look him in her eyes. 

"Something wrong?" Josiah asked. 

"Of course not," Julia retorted. "I have a busy day ahead of me. The life of a business woman you know." 

"I’ll take your word for it," he joked. "I best leave you to it then."  

"Thank you," she replied, the relief in her voice more damning than any other thing she had done since she encountered him. "Maybe we shall see each other later."

"You never can tell." Josiah answered, allowing her to pass him.  

Julia was about to sweep by when Josiah caught her arm with a firm grip and froze her in her tracks. The power of his large hand and long fingers around her forearm ensured that she got no further than she already had. Julia was about to open her mouth in protest when Josiah pulled the hat off her head.  

"Josiah!" She hissed and turned away quickly. "Let me go!"  

"Easy Julia," the preacher responded in that cool, erudite rumble of a voice. "You want to tell me what this is about?"

"It's none of your business." She snapped, her face still turned away from him. 

"Maybe its not," he returned not about to be deterred from his course, "but I’m not letting you go until I find out what you're so worried about me finding out."

"Josiah please," she began to plead, trying to hide but aware that it was probably too late for that now. "Its nothing." 

"Julia, look at me." Josiah said firmly. 

There was a little girl who identified Josiah Sanchez with the father she knew and that little girl was too conditioned to obey that voice to be able to ignore Josiah's demand. Slowly and almost against her will, she turned her face and met his eyes for the first time. The bruise presented itself to the preacher in all its lurid color and even though she hated herself for it, Julia felt her eyes glistening with tears because her secret was exposed for him to see. She hated lying to Josiah. She hated it because he was everything her father should have been and was not. Now that she had been caught in her lie, she felt ashamed and humiliated.  

"What happened?" Josiah asked, his voice hushed as he saw the bruise on her lovely face that could have been caused by only thing.

 "I fell." She replied weakly. 

"Into a fist." Josiah retorted, not about to accept that explanation for one minute. As a preacher he had seen too many women wearing similar marks on their faces to be fooled into thinking that it could be the result of a fall.  

"Of course not," she brushed aside the notion as if it were ludicrous. "I was clumsy and I fell. That's all there is to it." 

"Julia, who did this to you?" He demanded. 

"Josiah, please let it go!" She begged and the tears spilled down her cheeks as her emerald eyes filled with pain and suddenly Josiah knew who had done this to her.

"Did Ezra do this to you?" Josiah asked beyond astonishment. 

"No." She answered but her eyes said different. "Of course not."

"Julia!" Josiah repeated himself and startled her by the sharpness of his voice. People around them paused and stared briefly before Josiah glowered in their direction and sent them scurrying. He turned back to Julia and asked again. "Did Ezra hit you?" 

She could not lie to him. If it were anyone else, she might have managed but not to Josiah. "He didn't mean it!" She gushed. "Something's happened to him Josiah, something he won't talk about. It's making him crazy! I tried to force it out of him and he got angry. He didn't mean to hit me, I know he didn't! It was just that he was so angry and I wouldn't let up." 

"That's no excuse." Josiah growled. "He had no right to lay a finger on you!" 

"Please Josiah," Julia tried desperately to reach the preacher but knew the man was outraged and when Josiah was outraged, he had the temperament of a speeding locomotive. "I know he's sorry. He told me so."

"Do you know many times I have heard that?" Josiah stared at her. "It's always so easy to say sorry once they've done their worst." Josiah let her go then and turned around the way he came. It took no clairavoyance for Julia to guess where he was going.  

"Josiah where are you going?" She called out as he made his way down the boardwalk resembling a thundercloud on legs as he strode purposefully forward. He did not answer, not that he needed to.

Julia knew exactly where Josiah was going.

He was going to find Ezra.

* * *

Chris and Nathan arrived in the Standish Tavern and found Ezra exactly where they had expected him to be. He was starting his binge earlier than usual for it was only morning and he was already imbibing heavily. Inez was at the counter, looking clearly unhappy at the way Ezra was abusing his body but there was little she could say because the gambler's mood of late would have simply made him tell her to mind her own business. Fortunately, the tavern was empty at this time of the morning and Ezra was alone at their table. Vin and Buck were presently at the ranch, tending the horses and JD was minding the jailhouse. Chris remembered Josiah saying something about varnishing pews but had not paid very much attention at the time of the mentioning.

"Mr Larabee," Ezra looked up at them. The sound of his voice indicated he was clearly on the way to being quite drunk. "Mr Jackson, won't you join me in a morning restitution?"

Chris said nothing and stared past the gambler to make eye contact with the sultry barmaid. "Inez, could you give us a moment alone?" He asked.

Inez could see something was up and nodded quietly, taking the opportunity to stock up on supplies and made her way quickly to the door. She glanced anxiously at Ezra, certain that she was being dismissed so that Chris could deal with the reason of why Ezra had been behaving so erratically of late. 

Once she was gone, Chris and Nathan approached the table and sat down. Ezra had a bottle on the table and though it was far from empty, it was quite a bit of alcohol for one person to indulge at so early an hour. Chris picked up the bottle and took a decent swig of it, needing a drink before he started speaking. 

"Ezra, I know." He said coolly. 

Ezra blinked. His eyes shot immediately to Nathan and his jaw clenched. "You gave me your word!" He hissed through gritted teeth. 

"I'm sorry Ezra," Nathan started to apologise, unable to bear the accusation in those eyes and forced himself to look away. "I had to do it. You're tearing yourself apart the way you are and you need our help." 

"I needed your help when I was being violated on my hands and knees like a heifer in the pasture! Where were you then?" Ezra shouted and flung his glass past Chris. It shattered against the wall before Ezra forced himself to his feet. "Where you there when I was screaming it for it to stop? Were you there when that son of bitch told me that he might pass me around like I was bottle of liquor! No you were not! So what do you think you can do for me now?" 

"Ezra, it wasn't your fault." Chris responded after listening quietly. 

"Of course it was my fault!" Ezra barked back. "Spare me the pathetic attempts to make me feel better. I have a fair idea of what you must think of me now." 

"No you don't," Chris answered, displaying perfect calm in contrast to Ezra's angry words. "I don't think you have any idea what I'm thinking of you now." 

"Spare me the revelation." Ezra spat bitterly as he turned away. "I have no need of your sympathy or your eventual doubts and they will come you know. Funny, how they always do when it comes to me. Just wait until the first test of faith and see how quickly it is easy to believe that I'm some fucking deviant!"  

"Ezra, it has not been that way for a long time." Nathan protested. "You're our friend and we've been through too much together to ever think that you could have deserve what Julius did to you." 

Ezra swung around and faced them both, giving them the irrefutable confirmation that they needed to believe that it was Julius who did this to him. "How did you know?" He asked in a soft voice.

"I guessed." Chris answered. "Ezra, I can't imagine what you're going through." This time Chris was speaking from the heart and though it was difficult for him to do so, he knew he had to do it in order to reach the gambler while they still could. "I don't ever want to but I know that you didn't ask for what happened to you and it will never go beyond this room but you need to let us help you."

Ezra stared at Chris and then at Nathan, trying to discern whether or not this was some trick. He wanted so much to believe that Chris meant what he said because he couldn't stand looking himself in the mirror any more. He was starting to look like the shattered image of someone who used to be him but was unrecognisable inside. What he had done to Chris the night before and then Julia, God help him, he was dying.

However, anything Ezra might have said was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Josiah Sanchez barreling through the doors of the saloon. The preacher fixed his gaze on Ezra immediately and Chris and Nathan knew Josiah was furious.

"What's the matter with you?" Josiah roared as he made his way to the gambler. "Drinking yourself to death isn't enough? You got to take it out on a woman?" 

"Josiah please!" Julia's cried out as she followed him into the room. "He didn't mean to do it!"  

"Josiah calm down!" Chris ordered, watching the situation spiral out of control rapidly. He had been so close. Ezra was starting to believe him. Damn! 

"Calm down?" Josiah glared at the gunslinger. "Do you know what he did?" He pointed at Julia. "Look at her face!" 

Josiah was on Ezra in seconds and almost picked the gambler off his feet by the throat, his large hand clamping around the southerner's neck. Chris and Nathan were on him in a minute, with Julia screaming at them to stop him from harming Ezra.

"What's gotten into you Ezra!" Josiah demanded as he vented his fury at the smaller man. 

"Josiah, you don't know what's happened!" Chris shouted. "LET HIM GO!" 

"You defending him Chris? " Josiah glared at him in disbelief.  

"No I'm not," Chris grunted, trying to force Josiah to release the gambler. "But he has a good reason for why he has been the way he is."

"NO!" Ezra shouted defiantly, wanting Chris to remain silent. He needed no one else to know his secret, especially Julia who was in the room. "Don't you do it!" 

"I have to or he's going to break your godammn neck!" Chris barked back. "Josiah, Ezra got took!" 

Josiah looked sharply over his shoulder and stared at Chris in shock. "What?" He almost gasped out the word.

"Julius took him." Nathan answered. "Don't you understand? Julius raped him!"

Josiah's fingers' slackened and let go of Ezra who dropped to his knees coughing hard. Josiah stared at Chris and Nathan, horrified beyond belief because he knew precisely what Chris was talking about requiring no explanation.

"When?"

"DAMN YOU!" Ezra interrupted the question by screaming at Chris. "Damn you to hell Larabee! I almost believed you! I almost believed what you said!"  

"Ezra," Julia broke through the men and stared at him. "Is that true? Is that what happened?" 

Seeing Julia was too much for the gambler. He could not stand to look at her or any of them for that matter. "Get away from me, all of you." Ezra said bitterly and forced his way past them. No one tried to stop him. Somehow, he was not the least bit surprised.

Ezra did not look back as he walked out of the Standish Tavern. The only thing he could think about was getting as far away from them and Four Corners as possible. He suddenly realised that there was only one thing left to do. What he should have done three years ago.  

Leave and not look back. 

 


	7. Watershed

 

"Damn!"

Chris Larabee heard Julia Pemberton swear profusely following the incident that had driven Ezra Standish out of the Standish Tavern. He could not believe how badly things had deteriorated and how far they had transpired from what he had originally intended. He had no wish to blurt out Ezra's secret as he had, especially to Julia. However, Chris had not counted on Josiah's involvement or Julia's presence when he and Nathan had chosen to confront Ezra. Ezra's psyche was already hanging together by the barest threads and Chris had not intended to push him over the edge by revealing to Julia what had been done to him by Julius. The horror in Ezra's eyes when Chris had told Josiah was something the gunslinger would not forget for a long time. Chris had seen the anguish and shame that surfaced in his eyes and it was an expression of pain that was seared into Chris' memory.

Josiah had ambled to the bar counter and poured himself a drink, while Julia came to grips with the full implication of Chris' revelation. Chris could only go over in his mind repeatedly how it had all gone wrong. He should have been able to handle it better. He should have been able to show Ezra that he did not have to run. Nathan was filled with obvious guilt, wondering if he should have ever told Chris at all. He had thought confiding in the gunslinger would help him to deal with Ezra's growing instability but all it had done was made things a thousand times worse. 

Julia Pemberton paced the floor, unable to sit because her anger did not allow her that luxury. While she had yet to voice it, the reason for her anger was apparent enough by the glimmer in her emerald colored eyes when she regarded the men present in the room with her. Chris wished he could say that they did not deserve her anger but in truth, they in some small part were responsible for the catastrophic way she had learnt about what her lover and fiancée had endured. Nathan because he had held on to his secret far longer than he should have, Josiah for rushing in without the facts and Chris himself for committing the actual revelation in so unceremonious and indelicate a manner.  

"How could you not tell me about this?" Julia finally turned to them, her rage having leveled off to a point where she trusted herself to speak.

 "I gave Ezra my word." Nathan said meekly, aware that it was not much of an answer. 

"You men and your words!" Julia exploded. "I am sick to death about it! Ten thousand years of civilization and you still have not the slightest inkling of what is a promise to keep and what should be broken for the good of all! You accuse us women of being stubborn but you men are no better. You'd rather keep silent and let a man tear himself to pieces before you break your precious word!"

"Julia...."Chris started to say, feeling her anger like points of a knife on his skin and he could see each word spoken, drawing blood from Nathan.

"Don't you Julia me!" She fairly roared at Chris, silencing anything he was going to say with her intense fury. "You would not for one minute tolerate us keeping something like this from you if it was Mary. Don't you dare deny it! You have no idea what it is like to be defiled and degraded and then have no evidence of it to show anyone that it was done, except your word to know that any sin was committed. I DO! I know what its like to have some animal touch you and use you and then throw you away when its convenient! If I had any idea that Ezra had been put through that, this would never have gotten as far as it did. I would have told him exactly what he needed to hear which was that I believed him. The one thing that he needed most of all from me and I couldn't give him because  _none of you_  felt it important enough to tell me! I kept pushing him and pushing him, trying to make him explain when I know now that it was next to impossible for him to do that. How could you let me do that to him? How could you put your word of honor above his need to be helped?" She shot an icy glare at Nathan. 

"Julia, I believe him too." Chris implored, not wanting to feel like a fool he did but everything she said was correct.  

"IT'S NOT ENOUGH THAT YOU SAY YOU BELIEVE HIM!" She roared. "Don't you understand? It's the way you are going to look at him from this day forward. He can't just hear it! He has to know! He has to know that somewhere in the back of your minds, you don't think that maybe Julius didn't rape him as much as he consented to it to save his skin. Can any of you say that for sure?" She stared at the three men in the room. "Can you look inside yourself and say absolutely that it was exactly how he said it was?" 

"Of course!" Chris shouted back, his own anger surfacing and they met each other like titans preparing to wage warfare. "He's my friend! Do you think that I ain't sick to my stomach that something like this happened to him? I should have been there to stop it! He's one of my men! Nobody does this to one of my men!"  

"Then you had better find him and tell him that!" Julia retorted. "Because of all the people in this room, possibly even more than me, its your opinion that matters the most!"

 "What?" Chris was taken back. "What do you mean?" 

"Why do you think he stayed?" Julia demanded. "From everything he told me about his first year in Four Corners you never trusted him, not really but he stayed nonetheless, because of you!" 

"That's not true." Chris denied it. He turned to Josiah and Nathan, awaiting their response to support him but the preacher turned away and in Nathan's eyes, Chris could see that a small part of the healer agreed with Julia's vitriolic statement. 

"Of course it is. Ever since he ran out on you that first time, there was always that little doubt in the back of your mind about Ezra. Do you think he never saw it? He stayed here because he wanted your respect, more than anything else, he wanted  _your_  respect." Julia wiped away the tears that had appeared in her eyes and faced Chris once more. "I can convince him that I believe him but you're going to do better than that." She looked at all three of them. "You're going to have to do a hell of a lot better than what you've been doing." 

With that, Julia swept out of the room, determined to find Ezra and tell him that she loved him, while she still could. Chris watched her go, a force of nature sweeping towards the batwing doors with a crown of titian colored hair. For a long time after she went, no one spoke. No one knew what to say because she had been brutal in her rebuke and her words had penetrated deep into their skins, willingly or not. 

"Lord Chris," Josiah broke the silence first. His rumbling voice was filled with remorse and shame. "If I had known about Julius......."

"I should have said something." Nathan whispered softly. "She was right. There comes a time when a word of honor ought to take a back seat to helping a man, whether he wants to be helped or not." 

"You want to tell me what the hell happened to him?" Josiah demanded, not voicing that he agreed with Julia on this because Nathan was feeling bad enough but he was angry at venting his anger on Ezra with no idea what was running through the gambler's mind. His treatment of Julia made sense now and though Josiah did not condone Ezra hitting the lovely Emporium owner, could appreciate that turmoil that was running through his psyche to permit him to commit such an act.

"All we know is that Julius kidnapped him and then did what he did." Chris explained, still finding it difficult to come out and say that Ezra was raped. The concept was too vile for his sensibilities to manage more than once in the last hour.  

"We don’t know for sure because he ain’t talking about it." Nathan continued. "You saw how he was. He can’t stand anyone knowing." 

"Can you blame him?" Josiah retorted sharply, feeling furious at his actions in light of what he now knew. Julia had been right but not merely about Chris, but also about himself. He should have had faith in the gambler enough to know that Ezra would not have hit Julia unless there was something terribly wrong with him. All the signs of his anguish was apparent the last few days and Josiah who had prided himself in being able to empathize with the hurt of others, had missed all of them. Josiah was beyond mortified at his insensitivity.  

"I should have seen it. I should have known that there was something wrong with him for him to have hit Julia but I didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt." Josiah paused, shamefully remembering a conversation they had once following the discovery of ten thousand dollars whose fate Ezra had been obsessed by.  

True, Ezra had lusted after the money as Ezra only could but what had effected him most was not the fact that he could not touch the tidy sum but the fact that Chris had given it to  _someone else_  to guard. Ezra had confronted him in the church, needing someone to talk to but Josiah had been plagued by demons of his own and had not reacted as a friend should have and to this day, the preacher still felt ashamed of himself especially when he recalled Ezra's words. The gambler said that all his life people had given him that look which always made him feel that he was not entirely trusted, that he was still an outcast. He had expected it from everyone else but not his associates. Josiah flinched because they both knew Ezra had not meant to say 'associates' but rather his friends.  

Why would he think any differently now? Especially when anything inside of him that felt good about himself had been destroyed by that first brutal trust of Hannibal Julius' revenge. For the past few days, he had been decaying in front of them and none of them with the exception of Nathan, had seen it. They had attributed it to Ezra just being Ezra, knowing perfectly well that if it were Vin or JD behaving in such a manner, there would be inquiries and demands of concern.  

"Look," Chris said after listening to Josiah berate himself a little more. "We can sit here and jaw about what we should have done and it ain't gonna matter much. Ezra needs our help right now. I'm going to find him. If I have to beat the snot out of him, I'm going to convince him like Julia says that I don't doubt that he was taken, that I don't doubt that he couldn't stop it and that he is every bit a man as I am." 

"What about the others?" Nathan asked. "Do we tell them?" 

"Do we need to?" Chris said sharply. "As far as I'm concerned what happened between Ezra and Julius is no one's business but his own. We know because we have to know to help him get through this but I don't want it leaving the room. He can't barely stand us knowing, I won't destroy what's left of him by having  _everyone_  know." 

In truth, Chris' reasons were not entirely for Ezra. He had no idea how the others would take the news of hearing Ezra was raped. Chris would not tolerate anyone of his friends wondering about the gambler by providing them with that information. Human nature was fallible and it was not impossible for any one of the seven, no matter how much they trusted each other, to question the situation Ezra had found himself in. Chris would not have that treacherous seed planted in anyone else's head. Chris was going to spare Ezra that humiliation since he had failed so miserably to protect one of his men from the atrocity that was visited upon him. 

"Amen to that." Josiah agreed wholeheartedly. "I say we go find him." 

"I'll go." Chris stood up. "I don't think we ought to try crowding him right this minute. He's probably still ticked off at Nathan for telling me about it and Josiah, don't let me get started."

"Good idea," Josiah frowned, unable to refute Chris' statement because after his last encounter with Ezra, the gambler was probably not inclined to listen to anything he had to say. "You better hurry too, no telling what'd get up to after what just happened."

Chris tended to agree and immediately made his way out of the saloon, suddenly struck by a bad feeling he could not explain that it might have been too late already. 

* * *

Julia did not know how much time had passed after she left the Standish Tavern but she knew where she was going the minute she left the premises. A part of her was so furious at those men, she could barely think. Her mind still had difficulty with the concept that they could have hidden something  _that_  important from her. The more she thought about it, the more livid she became and had to thank God she wasn't a man because she would flattened the lot of them in light of what they had kept form her. She stormed through the town, hardly paying heed of anything around here, determined only to find Ezra. Everything else could wait until he heard what she had to say. 

What would she say?

The question surfaced inside her mind as she headed towards Mrs. Satlers' rooming house without pause certain that was the place Ezra would have been driven to find refuge. Since meeting him, they had hidden very little from each other that really mattered. There were little secrets of course, the nature of what they were made those impossible to reveal but the truly important things had been laid before each other a long time ago. It was the only way to misfits like them could ever face each other with any kind of understandings. However, there was secret and it was a fairly large one that she could never bring herself to tell him in all its entirety, the one Julia was certain he had guessed when that Pinkerton detective came searching for her some months ago. 

She had been her papa's little dove for as long as she could remember. The replacement God had seen fit to give her father for the mother who had died when she was born. Until she was about to become a woman, she had no idea how much of a replacement she was meant to be. Her father doted on her from the day she was born and through her childhood, there was nothing she wanted that he would not provide. Until that first night when his touches reeked of the sinister rather than the innocent, did she discover what she wanted most from him but was doomed never to be have until she ran from him on the eve of her wedding.  

The chance to forget that he had raped her when she was twelve years old.

In all honesty, it could not even be considered rape. After all, he was a father and when he said it was not wrong, she believed him. She wanted to be a good daughter and she loved her papa enough to endure it. Unaware that it was indecent and filthy and that the revulsion she felt when she looked in the mirror and could only be expunged by countless of meaningless dalliances with men she could hardly give second thought about. She knew how it felt to be used and abused over and over again. The only respite she ever had was when he started to get too old too touch her and decided by proxy to marry her to a man twice her age.  

She had never wished Ezra to know even though she strongly suspected he had already guessed because he was intelligent enough to decipher her fear at seeing her father again into something darker and more sinister. However, now she had to tell him. She had to tell him because only when she told him that horrible truth would he be able to believe that she understood exactly what he had endured because the twelve year old she had been knew all too well the agonies he was presently suffering. She could not imagine what it must be like for a man but she understood the horror all the same because it had left its marks upon her as surely as what Julius had done to him had left him scarred forever.

It was the only way that he would believe that she did not look upon him with revulsion.

She hurried through the front door of the lodging house and made her way quickly up the steps that led to the rooms on the second floor. For some reason, she felt time pressing up against her as she reached the top of the stairs. Something in Ezra's eyes when he had staggered out of the Standish Tavern gave her a feeling of fear that she could not dispel and when she reached the door that led to his room, she understood why that was. The door was ajar and as Julia pushed her way inside, she led out a breath of defeat because she knew what she would find before she entered the room. 

Within the modest space that he had called home for almost three years, the dressing table drawers were pulled open and anything that might have had any value to Ezra Standish was absent. She moved through the room like a sleepwalker, not wishing to see any of it but unable to deny the evidence with which she was confronted. Tears started running down her cheeks as she saw the empty closet, the dresser devoid of the personal items that was so indicative of the gambler and the emptiness that more than just his belongings being gone. It crept up her spine in tendrils of ice, forcing her to accept what she was seeing; that everything that was once Ezra Standish’s was gone.

Just like he was.

Panic did not set in immediately. She tried to reason it out. He could not have managed to leave town just yet. There would be preparations to make for a permanent departure. He had a stake in the Tavern, money in the bank, surely those would have to be tended to prior to his leaving Four Corners. She knew that much of this was pure wishful thinking because at this time, his state of mind was such that money was the last thing on his mind. Changes were better that after pausing here long enough to remove any trace of himself, he would most likely have gone to Yosemite’s to get Chaucer to head out of town. When that thought impressed itself on its mind, only then did she start to panic. Without wasting another second in the room, Julia fairly bolted out the door and started running down the stairs. 

If he wanted to disappear, Julia had no doubt that Ezra would manage it quite and well and she would never reach him to tell him that she did not feel ashamed or disgusted by what he had endured because like she had been long ago, he was a victim. Her departure raised some curious glances from the lodgers whom she happened to pass by as she raced out the front door into the street outside. Her eyes scoured the town before her as if perhaps she might catch a glimpse of him. There was no sign of him but she did see Chris Larabee coming towards the lodging house, probably seeking Ezra as she had earlier. She would spare him the trouble.

"Chris!" Julia ran to the black garbed gunslinger. "He’s gone." 

"What do you mean, gone?" Chris asked, his voice tightening to a hiss.

"I went to his room," Julia responded, trying to catch her breath. "He’s cleaned out everything of his at the lodging house. I think he’s trying to leave town!"  

Chris swore under his breath, afraid that it might have come to this. He supposed after the way that Ezra reacted to his telling Josiah, the gambler could not expect to behave any other way. However, like Julia, Chris had no intention of allowing Ezra to leave like this. Chris felt a great measure of responsibility for what had happened to Ezra, not simply because he had failed to protect the gambler from Hannibal Julius but also because it were not for Chris, Ezra would never have incurred Julius’ hatred as he had. If things had gone accordingly when Ezra had been sent to spy on Julius, he would have secured the intelligence they needed to thwart Julius’ plans with the man never being the wiser. Unfortunately, Ezra’s bout of intelligence gathering had coincided with the period when Julius had kidnapped Mary and Ezra had exposed himself to the megalomaniac's wrath when he had rescued her.  

"Come on," Chris said as he started striding towards Yosemite’s livery. He did not have to look over his shoulder to know that Julia was behind him, her worries about Ezra made it clear she would not go quietly into the night when there was a possibility that he might have left town for good. "If he’s gone, we’ll find out how much of a head start he got on us." 

"You think he’s already gone?" Julia asked fearfully as she tried to match Chris’ stride. Not an easy thing to do considering that he was considerably taller than her petite form. 

Ezra would not have wasted time if leaving were what he truly intended, Chris thought silently to himself. If he had cleared out his things already, then Chris seriously doubted that he was still in Four Corners. "Yeah," Chris nodded after a while. "I think so." 

Julia let out a heavy sigh, filled with despair and sorrow. It was a sound that had the power to move him and Chris turned to her. "Julia, if he’s gone, we’ll find him. He doesn’t have much of a head start on us, we should be able to catch him." 

"I hope so," Julia whispered. "I can’t imagine him on his own out there, believing that we think the worst of him, thinking that he somehow invited what happened to him upon himself." 

"No one believes that," Chris said automatically and surprised himself because he truly believed it. The doubt that he feared others might feel did not exist in himself and he certainly knew that it did not exist in Josiah or Nathan. Even if he could not be sure about the others and the truth was; they would never be in the position to find out, Chris felt gratified at his sincere belief that Ezra had suffered terribly and had deserved none of the violence inflicted upon him. "I sure as hell don’t," he added with conviction. "When we find him, we’re going to tell him until he believes it." 

"God I want to kill that son of a bitch." Julia hissed with uncharacteristic violence. "I want to hurt him so bad I can’t think straight." 

Chris felt his inside tighten at that thought. Yes, he wanted to get his hands on Hannibal Julius himself. Since Hannibal Julius had entered his life again, Chris had yet to see the man but one thing was for certain, their next encounter whenever that might be would be the final time that Chris would ever lay eyes on the man. For what he had done to Ezra, Chris could guarantee that for a fact. 

"You ain’t the only one."

* * *

Completely unaware of Ezra’s troubles, Casey Wells finally summed up the courage to see Alexandra Styles again. It had been days since she had seen the doctor where they had their discussion on the solution Alex had presented to her regarding her unfortunate circumstances. Casey had thought long and hard on the subject, trying to weight what Alex had said to her about what it was they would be doing and the ramifications on her life once it was a deed in the past. A part of her could not see the child of Neil Blackwood slumbering in her belly as a collection of cells, who existed in the nexus that preceded awareness. Her mind had difficulty grasping the concept so clinically for she was a woman of her time and she was raised to believe that a child was a child no matter how young it was or how miniscule it might be within her body.

However, that consideration aside, her life was still going to be ruined if she had the baby. Of this there was no convincing her otherwise. Even if she could endure the next few months of her pregnancy, Casey did not know if she could look at it with anything but loathing. The idea of having the baby was simply unimaginable and the fact was a tiny part of her hated it. She hated it even though she knew it had no choice in being born. Worse yet, how could she face JD knowing that she had born his father's child, even if she manage to somehow endure the pregnancy and then give it away? The child born would be his brother! The nightmare of it was more than she could stand and suddenly in the face of all that turmoil, Alex's solution became less and less repellant.  

That was why she found herself entering the clinic, hoping once again that Alex was alone so that she could tell that doctor what decision she had come to. She hoped that Alex would have the right words to chase away her doubts but somehow, she knew better. Seeing how difficult it had been for Alex to reveal to her the procedure in the first place, made Casey realise that Alex was almost in as much turmoil as she although in varying degree. Casey picked her moment to visit Alex carefully, ensuring that it was in the late afternoon when most people were hurrying home for supper or the saloon, whatever one's predilection might be.  

Casey entered the clinic and immediately deduced that Alex was upstairs instead of being in her clinic. She almost debated the idea of going home because she really did not want to tell Alex her decision especially if Vin was around. What she had to discuss with the doctor was things for women to talk about, not men. They did not understand and though she was a young woman with a great deal of living to do in front of her despite the tragic turn of it at late, she had learnt that much already. Fortunately she heard only sounds of movement from above and not actual voices which gave Casey the encouragement she needed to make the rest of way up the stairs that lead to the Tanner's residence. 

"Casey." Alex exclaimed when she saw the young woman enter her kitchen. Vin was due home soon and Alex had been in the midst of preparing supper when Casey made her appearance. Inwardly, Alex did not know whether or not she was happy to see her or not. 

"Hi Alex," Casey offered a little smile that had none of the warmth and was for her benefit only, Alex realised. 

For a few minutes, they went through the niceties, making inquiries after each other's kin, catching up on local gossip and talking about the large family they were apart of, anything really to avoid the subject that had been reason for this visit. When Alex had sat across Casey at the table, she tried to forget the image of the young girl who had almost committed suicide a number of days ago because her agony and her turmoil had been so great. Casey exhibited no signs of such distress but Alex knew the facade was only skin deep.  

"How you been Casey?" Alex asked and suddenly, their conversation moved into that dark place that neither dared to broach until now. 

"I've been okay," Casey answered honestly. "I haven't tried to do anything foolish, if that's what you mean." 

It  _was_  what she meant but Alex did not want Casey to think that Alex thought she was a basket case. Too much of what frightened the girl so much about her condition was what people would think about her. Alex would spare her that. "I was worried about you Casey, not about that." 

"I'm sorry," Casey returned after a moment. Alex had been the one person in all this that she could rely on, no matter what. She did not want to lash out at the doctor because she was angry at her own situation. "I'm still getting sick in the mornings but I'm managing to hide it. I don't know how long it will be before I have to tell Aunt Nettie."

Even as she said it, Alex saw her shudder visibly and knew that for Casey, that moment would almost be as terribly at telling JD. "Do you want me to give you something for it? At least until you've made up your mind?" Alex asked gently, wanting to help in any way. 

"No," she shook her head slowly. "I've made up my mind Alex." 

Alex held her breath as she waited for Casey's answer. For a brief instance she almost hoped the young girl was going to turn down the offer for the procedure. If Casey did that then it was out of her hands and that was all there was to it. "And?"

"I want to do it."  

And there it was. The last vestiges of sanity that bound her to safety were severed with those five little words and yet she knew she had walked into this situation willingly. She had offered Casey a solution to her problems and now that the girl had accepted it, there was no turning back. "Are you sure?" 

"No?" Casey retorted. "I'm not sure about anything but I know I don't have a choice." 

"Casey," Alex started to speak, uncertain whether or not it was wise to convince her otherwise.

"No Alex," she said almost sharply. "I can't be any more certain then that. I don't know how I'll live with this when its done or whether, if I can live with it at all but the only thing I am sure of is that I can't have this baby. I can't imagine it and I won't do it. I won't have a child and have to tell JD someday that it's his brother, that I gave birth to a child that was Blackwood's. If this turns out to be the wrong decision, if I suffer for the rest of my life because of it, its still got to be better than knowing that I had that bastard's child." 

"Okay," Alex conceded defeat and knew that for Casey, that was as much assurance as the young woman could manage at this time. 

The silence continued again with both speaking for a while as the decision was made and both of them came to grips with what that would mean to both of them. 

"When can you do it?" Casey asked meekly. 

"The sooner the better," the doctor said automatically. "Preferably before anyone suspects that you might be pregnant. What we are doing is extremely illegal. If it is even suspect, we could both find ourselves in jail."

"Alex are you afraid?" She looked at Alex.

 "Yes," Alex nodded, not about to lie. Where they existed at the moment was in a crucible where all else had been burnt away and what remained was an unmasked truth. "I am afraid that I made a mistake by telling you I could do this. I'm afraid that I might make a mistake during the surgery and that I might hurt you and if not, of getting caught, of losing my license, of going to jail, I'm afraid of a lot of things." Her voice started to crack a little and the brave front she had been attempting to show the young woman crumbled slightly. "However, nothing frightens me more than failing you or having you hurt yourself because you're forced to have this child. Nothing scares me more than that."

"Oh Alex!" Casey crossed the room and was suddenly in her arms weeping. "I'm scared and I don't know what else to do. Your way seems the best even though I'm scared to death of it. I'm not sure about anything but I can't see any other way and I don't want to if you can just make it all go away like you said. I'll live with what I have to live, just please make it gone!" 

Alex listened to that heartfelt plea and knew that she was helpless in its grip. She had made a promise to Casey and now it was time to deliver.

God help them both.

* * *

Chris strode into the saloon and found Nathan and Josiah still there, no doubt discussing the situation with Ezra following the terrible exchange earlier on. By now, the Standish Tavern was starting to fill again and the gunslinger made a discreet return to the table where the two men were presently seated. Josiah and Nathan could immediately tell by the grim expression on Chris' face that there had been a new development in the unfolding crisis with Ezra and hoped that it could not be any worse than what they had to face already. 

"What's happened?" Josiah asked. 

"He's gone." Chris said quietly. "Packed up his things from the boarding house and took off." 

"Hell!" Nathan swore, unable to believe that this was anything but his fault. He should not have said anything to Chris! He should have tried harder to help the gambler and keep this private. It was not Ezra running off the feared the healer so much but rather what he would do once he was alone. Would he attempt to take his life? 

"How long?" Josiah spoke in the face of Nathan's obvious panic. "Can we catch up to him?" 

"I think if we get riding straight away, we might." Chris retorted. "Josiah I want you to stay here in case he comes back."

 "I doubt he will," the preacher retorted immediately. "He's running on anger and shame, it can drive a man far away." 

"We don't know that for sure," Chris replied. "Ezra's always been a puzzle. He never does anything he's supposed to do and thinking you have him pegged is about the biggest mistake  _anyone_  can make about him. I want you to stay put not just for him but for Julia too, she liable to ride after him in the state she's in." 

"What about us?" Nathan asked, thinking he already knew the answer to that question.  

"We're going to find him." Chris said standing up. "We're not coming back until we do." 

Nathan was grateful for that and was more than ready to follow Chris when the gunslinger rose to his feet again. Both men strode out of the Standish Tavern leaving Josiah behind, confident that the preacher would be capable of keeping things discreet if Ezra should return, as unlikely as it might seem to all of them at the time. Ezra had an hour's start on them so they had not time to lose as they made their way to the livery. The truth was three years of residence in the area had made Ezra extremely adept at losing himself in the Territory if he wished and although Chris did not voice it, Nathan knew that the leader of the seven was worried that they might not find him. 

"What's on your mind Nathan?" Chris asked suddenly, jarring him out of his thoughts. 

"I'm worried about Ezra." Nathan replied as they continued their brisk pace towards the livery.  

"I'm worried about Ezra too but not in the same way that you are." The blond man pointed out, his steel gaze fixed on Nathan, dissecting with that infamous glare that seemed capable of drawing the truth from even the most persistent liar.  

"I'm scared we won't find him." Nathan confessed, yielding under that relentless stare that seemed to look straight into his soul without mercy. 

"Its possible that he could go to ground but doubtful." Chris stated, still eyeing him cautiously still disbelieving that was the entire cause of Nathan's anxiety. "He ain't that got that much of a start on us and even if we did lose him, Vin will pick him up."

"I ain't worried about not finding Chris," Nathan whispered softly, unable to even imagine the real reason for his fear even thought it impressed itself so strongly upon his psyche that Nathan could hardly breathe for the possibility of it coming true. "I'm just worried about finding him alive." 

Chris nodded slowly as if he had considered that but was trying not to think too much on it because he could stand it no more than Nathan could. "It won't get that far." He said firmly as if he needed to believe himself.  

"I shouldn't have said nothing." Nathan shook his head. "I should have tried to help him and not said anything!" 

"NATHAN!" Chris barked. "We don't have time for this." The gunslinger said with enough intensity for it to penetrate. "We need to find him now before it is too late!" 

"I'm sorry Chris," Nathan apologized, unable to stand being so helpless. When he saw someone hurt, he knew instantly how to make them feel better but in this instance he could not simply remedy the solution with the knowledge at his disposal. "I feel responsible for this." 

"If it makes you feel any better," Chris met his gaze sympathetically "We're all responsible." 

It might have been true but it did not help.

* * *

 

Ezra Standish looked at the bottle of liquor he had purchased prior to leaving town and took another swig. The amber liquid rushed down his gullet and quickly found itself welcomed in the pit of his stomach. The gambler eased back into the loft full of hay inside the barn and continued working his way through the bottle quite prepared to drink himself into oblivion if need be. His state of mind was such at this time that he really did not care how he got there as long as he did. He was well and truly inebriated now but still prided himself a little at the selection of his hiding place. Ever since Neil Blackwood's cohorts had razed the Wilmington home to the ground Buck had been spending his time between the Lucky Seven ranch and the rebuilding of the home. In the interim, much to Inez's chagrin the family had been residing in the rooms above the saloon. 

The barn on the property however, remained very much intact.

He wondered if the others were searching for him and supposed that if they should make the effort, they would not consider this place in a million years. Certainly his undertakings prior to leaving town would ensure that their search would extend beyond the immediate perimeters of Four Corners. Ezra did not care where they went as long as they did not find him during the next few hours. He had considered penning a note to Julia but wondered what would be the point. She knew his humiliation now and no doubt once her sympathy dwindled and her doubts set in, she would be grateful to see the back of him. Chris Larabee would feel the same way, once he got around to remembering to look at Ezra in that way which always told the gambler that he was only a member of the seven because the others tolerated him and not because he was a part of the fellowship.

He looked at the derringer in his hand and decided that he did not like the idea of using such a small projectile. It might not kill him and surviving a bullet to the brain would leave him at the mercy of others if he did not die. No, he had enough of relying on people to risk that. With fingers clumsy from too much drink, Ezra unfastened the small weapon from the harness under his sleeve and let it fall onto the hay. He reached instead for the gun nestled in his holster and admired for a moment the Remington that had saved his life more times than he could count. He let his unsteady fingers caress the steel and then thought almost involuntarily that this time it would do the same thing, saving his life by ending it. 

He emptied the chamber of all but one bullet and spun it, allowing that single projectile to become lost in a blur of color and movement. His eyes unsteady from the drink lost sight of it soon enough and once the  _click click_  sound of the chamber spinning evaporated into nothingness, he eased back into the coat he had lain on the hay covered loft and stared at the ceiling, the gun still in his grip. Ezra took another swig of whiskey and felt it strengthen his resolve to do what he had intended when he had found himself this secluded place. The alcohol dulled the ache inside of him and it was a feeling he longed to feel with permanence.

He should have said goodbye to Julia. 

Blinking, involuntary tears filled his eyes for the one person who had loved him unconditionally, who knew what he was and thought him to be wonderful nonetheless. When he was with her, he was the man he could be, not the one that had trouble looking at himself in the mirror sometimes. God, he loved her. Ever since that moment she had first tried to scheme her way into his heart, he knew that he had met his match and everything else seemed unimportant in that face of that realisation. The last year or more than she had been in his life had been nothingness than blissful and even during the hard times; she had been there for him. It was that he loved her so much that he could not put her through this. When he had struck her, he finally sunk his lowest.

He had become the animal that Julius had raped to create.

This was Hannibal's revenge. Not the shame of being taken like a woman or even the humiliation of having that disgrace known to his friends but rather the disintegration of the person he was into a stranger that was ready to gamble with his life and strike women. He wished he could say that he was brave enough to prove his abuser wrong but Ezra could not. He could not even look himself in the mirror. When only Nathan had known, Ezra thought he might be able to stand it but to hear that Chris, of all people, was privy to his secret had been too much for him. Then Chris had done the unimaginable and told Josiah and then Julia was staring at him like something to be pitied. God, he wanted to die.

Ezra shoved the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger.

The chamber clicked but the bullet he expected did not come. Another empty click followed and for the moment he had beaten the odds. He could not face them, not with them knowing. Would Josiah tell Maude? He had wondered about that. The preacher would be meddlesome enough to think that having his dear mother here would some how help him. Ezra was already enough of a disappointment to her, she did not need to know that her son had been taken as well. Swallowing another mouthful of whiskey, Ezra took a deep breath and pulled the trigger and again, nothing happened. 

His luck was still with him. He wondered for how long. For once he wished it would go away. He wished the torture would just end with an explosion of sound and darkness swallowing him whole. He wanted it badly, could taste is as prolifically as he could taste the tang of whiskey on this tongue. All it took was one bullet for it all to dissolve into nothingness. He wanted the memories to end, the ones that kept him drinking until his mind was so foggy that he could feel nothing. Not even sleep protected him from them because in his nightmares, Julius was there to, reminding of the pain and the horror while in the background Chris Larabee watched and taunted. While they all watched and taunted. 

He pulled the trigger again and still death eluded him. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a disjointed voice was trying to make itself heard these last few minutes, the whisper that found its voice at the most peculiar moments in his life. He remembered it speaking when he had ridden away from the Seminole village when it looked as if the battle there was lost. He had gotten on his horse and ridden for his life, thinking that chivalry was not worth his life. He would have kept going too if not for that voice that told him to stop and think about he was doing. It came from deep inside of him and its wisdom though rare was golden. He had gone back, braving Chris' anger in the aftermath with that voice telling him to stay because the six men who became the closest friends he had ever had in his life, was worth staying for. 

It had been until Julius ruined and forced him to pull the trigger again. The audible click of the empty chamber forced him deeper into his memories about the seven. From the family he had found to the woman he loved. Fortune had followed him even though it was not in the form of financial riches. He had gained much. There were people in his life and until one had lived his life largely as an outcast, could not truly appreciate how precious a thing it truly was.  

He had not even realised that he was weeping until he pulled the trigger once more, not realizing until hearing that penultimate click that he did not really want to die. The sound impacted through his psyche and brought the tears that should have come long before this. He had beaten the odds and he knew that next time he pulled the trigger that winning streak would end. He sat there for who know how long exuding his sorrow in loud ragged sobs not only of anger but of remorse for all that he had lost and wondered how far he would have to fall before he found it again. The gun fell from his hand onto the hay without Ezra even noticing it.  

The sound of metal even dulled by the soft strands of hay was still sharp and when it hit the floorboards, seemed to shake something loose inside his head. Something that perhaps had been waiting for a little bit of shaking to finally make itself felt within him. Ezra straightened up at the sound and his head started to throb with the hangover he knew was coming. For a few lingering seconds, he did not know where he was. He knew he was inside Buck Wilmington’s barn but everything beyond that. That insistence voice inside him took the opportunity to speak again, perhaps realizing that he was reaching a watershed moment and it was now or never. 

Almost in a daze, he picked up the gun and stared at it. The last slot in the chamber was the bullet that would kill him if he pulled the trigger. He had played six to one odds and so far managed to keep his brains firmly tucked within his skull. The question is; the voice asked now that it had his attention, how did he want to play the next hand? In last few seconds, Ezra had come to the understanding that he had a choice to make, one that could be settled with terrifying finality by a single bullet. This was the place he had been driven ever since Hannibal Julius had exacted his terrible vengeance. It was a simple question for a very complex issue once the emotional side of it could be forgotten for a spell. 

Did he want to live? 

It was that easy, requiring a one-word answer that would decided everything to give him some idea of how to go on from this point forward. He needed that guidance. All his life Ezra had been a man comfortable with keeping the situation under control, in always playing the odds because he had a fair idea of the outcome. When the odds were not in his favor, he changed them because that was the secret of the game, you see, in daring to try. What happened with Julius had placed him in a situation he could not control. When he had been tortured and nearly killed by Sekhmet, Ezra had been as similarly helpless and with worse injuries then he had suffered at Julius’ hand but it had been different. Angry and shaken as he had been by the experience, he had not been humiliated, had not been driven to the point of despair that he was now. It was always about control. Controlling his situation and his emotions and in this instance he could do neither. 

Yes, he wanted to live. He did not know if he could do it in Four Corners or as a member of the seven but he did want to see tomorrow and every day that came after it. He made another decision at that instant and it came far more easily than all the others that proceeded it. Before he could get on with his life, before he could even begin to return to anything resembling the semblance of it, he had one task to do first and there would be no compromise in his accomplishing this. Nothing else would matter until it was done, not the seven, not even Julia. Nothing. 

He was going to kill Hannibal Julius.

* * *

Even though she had no intention of betraying Casey’s confidence to anyone else after Mary, Alex knew that the decision she had made to help Casey would not simply effect herself or the young woman if anything went wrong, but also her husband. Alex hated hiding things from Vin. However, she could not deny the possibility that if news of what she had done reached the authorities, she could be facing a jail term. It was far more likely for any court of law to find her culpable than Casey not simply because of the girl’s age but also because she was white. The consequences to herself would be extreme if she found himself charged with performing the procedure. On that basis, she had no choice but to at least tell Vin something about what she was doing, even if it was in the vaguest sense of the word. 

Alex waited until he returned home later that day, when supper was ready to be served. He had spent most of afternoon at the ranch taking care of things there since Chris had told him this morning that he had some personal matters to tend to that could not wait. Vin had not minded going with Buck to tend to their joint business venture because he loved being away from town whenever the opportunity allowed for it. Despite living in Four Corners for the past three years, the need for wide-open spaces had never really left Vin Tanner. He was still very much a creature of the wild and she loved him even more because he would always be that way. 

"Hey darling," he came up behind her upon entering the house and planted a lingering kiss on her neck as she put the finishing touches to the meal she had prepared. Vin took deep breaths of the aroma in the kitchen, always loving how the room smelled at this time of the day. Sometimes the scent would soak into the walls and would stay with them for days. It was one of the little things he loved most about married life and wondered how he could have lived any other way.

"Hey cowboy." She smiled turning her head just enough to meet his cobalt colored eyes with an affection look. "How was the ranch today?" 

"Pretty good," he answered as he tried to reach into the pot to steal a morsel and succeeded in having his fingers slapped lightly away by her. "I think the mare is going to foal soon." He replied drawing away to the table where routine dictated that he set the table since she cooked.  

"How’s the house coming along?" Alex asked as she transplanted the contents of the pot into a casserole dish.  

"Getting there," Vin replied as he set the table. "A couple of weeks and we can actually move in there." 

"Really?" She raised her eyes to meet his for confirmation on this fact. The building of their home like everything else in the life of the Magnificent Seven was a group effort. The lawmen had alternated their weekends and spare time from putting the finishing touches to the house at the ranch and with providing Buck Wilmington and his family with a home after a fire had destroyed their last one. 

"Yeah," he grinned, happy to see that she was pleased about this. He had been a little concerned that perhaps she was not as eager to move out of town as he was. After all, this place had been her home since she had arrived in Four Corners and had been venue for many fond memories for both of them. "You okay about that?" 

"You know I think I am," she smiled. "I think I’d like to move into a place that will always be ours, you know not just mine first and then yours but something that we started in together." 

Vin liked the idea of that himself. He knew next to nothing about building a home when he started out constructing their own at the ranch but he knew he wanted it to be perfect, not only as a place to spend the rest of their lives but also where she could practice medicine as well. He was extraordinarily proud that she was a doctor because he had seen first hand how many people she helped, whose lives she had saved including his own. He never wanted her to stop being one and would make whatever accommodation necessary in their future together to ensure that she would always be a healer.

They held each other's gaze for a moment, in that familiar wistful way that always made his blood boil under his skin and sent tingles through him that made him want to take her where she stood and make love to her all day. Suddenly, he saw something in her brown eyes that brushed all those warm thoughts filled with desire right away, a little shimmer of doubt he was certain spelt trouble even though he could not imagine what that trouble might be. Still she was a woman known for her common sense and practical nature. Being a doctor demanded nothing else and she did not worry about things lightly. 

"What is it?" He found himself asking.  

Alex swallowed. "Do you love me?" 

The question surprised him because she ought to know by everything that he held dear and holy, that she was the most precious thing in the world to him. There was nothing he would not do for her, any lengths he would not go to keep her. She was his wife, his friend and lover but more importantly, she was the other half of his heart and soul. Without her, he would not know how to go, he did not even think he would wish to. "You know I do." He said firmly, starting to worry. 

"Do you trust me then?" She asked instead. 

That too was also an absolute. "Of course I do." He retorted. "What's going on?" 

"I have to do something." She said after a long pause.  

"What?" His brow furrowed as he stared at her, wondering why it was so hard for her to simply come out and say what was on her mind. He could see the conflict in her eyes and could not imagine what could be the cause of it even though he had noticed something in her manner of late that while did not worry him until now, made him wonder. 

"I can't tell you." Alex answered in a voice that told him immediately that there would be no room for discussion on this point. 

"Why?" He could not help but ask. They had never kept secrets from each other before. What made this was so important to be worth breaking that rule. 

"I gave my word that I would not and it's a matter of doctor patient confidentiality, I simply can't tell you." She allowed him that much. 

"Then why tell me at all?" He said impatiently. 

"Someone I am treating is in a situation to which I can offer a solution. Its an illegal medical procedure and if anyone ever finds out that I performed it, I could lose my license to practice medicine or worst yet, I could go to jail." 

Vin stared at her hard, trying to break down the walls of her silence but soon gave up because when her mind was made up, heaven and earth could not change it. So instead he thought about why she would be compelled do something that could jeopardize her career and her freedom. He did not have to think hard because he knew immediately why. Because she could and because whomever it was needed her help. It was that simple.

"Does it have to be done?" He asked. "There's no other way?" 

"No," she shook her head slowly. "I've thought of everything else, it's this way or not at all." 

"What are the chance of you being caught?" He asked carefully, trying not to make it any harder for her because Vin could see that this preyed heavily on her mind.  

"Slight." She admitted readily. "I intend to do it here as soon as I can. I'd rather you not be in the house at the time, it will make my patient uncomfortable."

Vin thought carefully because that answered a few questions that he had thought to be nothing but incidental until this moment. "Is it Casey?" 

Alex tried not to show her surprise but could not help herself. Nevertheless, she did not answer because she was still bound to remain silent. 

"You don't have to say anything," Vin replied taking a step towards her. "The couple of times I've called in on Nettie I've seen how she's been. Also Nettie told me she'd been to town to visit and I kind of thought it was a might peculiar you not mentioning it. I didn't think much of it at the time but it makes sense to me now." 

"Vin..." Alex started to say but he did not let her finish.  

Instead he crossed the space between them and took her into his arms and held her tight. He did not know exactly what the problem with Casey was but he could guess. If it was what he suspected then he understood Alex's reason for doing what she had to and thought no more on it then that. Besides this was the business of women, something he as a man could never hope to understand nor did he want to. "Alex, you do what you have do and no matter what, I'll stand by you. I promise." 

Alex blinked, feeling her eyes moistened with emotion. "Thank you," she whispered softly, as she buried her cheek into the crook of his shoulder and took comfort from him just being there. "I love you cowboy." She responded, her voice choked with emotion.  

Vin smiled, breathing in the scent of her hair and answered with such as much sentiment. "I love you too Doc."

* * *

He had started riding shortly after dark.  

His head started to throb a mile into the journey out of town and by the time he was far enough from Four Corners to consider turning back too much trouble, his head was pounding like there was a minor orchestra playing inside his head. Ezra told himself he should have gone back to Four Corners, he should have attempted to make some effort to mend the bridges he had broken today by leaving but a part of him could not take that step yet. He was going to find Julius. Until he did, he could not rest or begin to heal. Finding and killing Hannibal Julius was as much for himself as it was for the purpose of revenge. Ezra knew that until he completed that task, he could not get on with his life. He needed some kind of closure and if that closure meant playing executioner to Julius, then he would do gratefully. 

The moon was high in the night sky when he heard the sounds. 

Pulling up his horse immediately, he immediately sent Chaucer into the cover of some tall shrubbery. Below him, the land dipped into a conclave, laying out the terrain before him as if he were at a great height. He remained hidden for awhile watching to see who was out there. In the Territory it was never wise to simply impress yourself into a situation before knowing what was waiting for you. Ezra remained hidden, perfectly aware of how to do it without being noticed and watched carefully the group of riders in the distance. They were some way off but the full moon allowed him to see them clearly and one thing he learnt as soon as he strained his ears closely enough, was that they were not speaking English. 

He had no idea what dialect it was they were speaking but there was no doubt in his mind that language being spoken about was definitely Indian in origin. He had heard enough of it to know what it sounded like even if he did not understand it. Ezra held his breath, his caution taking new intensity upon that realisation. After seeing Vin's uncanny ability to track first hand, to tell that someone was approaching when not even a sound was heard but rather making that estimation by the way the wind was blowing, Ezra knew he had every reason to be concerned. However, withdrawing hastily would draw as much attention as his trying to stay put and for the moment, the riders had yet to see him so he decided to remain with what was providing him with anonymity still. 

He watched them in the moonlight, no more than a dozen, speaking in that language he could not discern, watching them conduct their conversation on horseback when a sudden glimmer of midnight illumination inspired his interest like nothing else had in days. He say the long sheeny darkness of almost raven colored hair and though she was dressed far more simply then when she had taken the stage as the hotel's star attraction, he knew without doubt that it was  _her_. His gut tightened into a knot and suddenly, the hangover that had been plaguing him disappeared in one frothing bubble of rage.

Diana. 

Ezra almost gasped when the name surfaced in his mind. The anger that came at knowing it was her down there was almost as fierce as the need to find Julius and tear out his heart, moment after he had torn something else of the man's. She was the one who had delivered him to Julius like a virgin unknowingly sold to a whoremaster. She had given him to Julius, knowing full well what the man had planned to do to him. The fury that Ezra felt was like a fire burning inside him. He would have ridden there immediately and made her pay if he had not channeled all that anger into something more constructive. He would remain hidden for now because if he gave into impulse and did what he wanted to do, like riding out there and shooting her dead, her companions would kill him before he reached her. No, he would be patient and wait her out. Her master was Hannibal Julius and eventually she would lead Ezra to him. 

Then he would kill them both. 

 

 


	8. Retribution

 

Ezra did not know how long he watched her in the darkness.

Hours hurtled by him with relative swiftness because anger was good company, a kaleidoscope of images reeling inside his mind as he waited, all with the power to keep his rage burning furiously. In the darkness, he watched in silence as she conferred with the Indians that she met on this lone plain, no doubt to dispense the orders for mayhem that was instigated by her master Hannibal Julius. Gentlemanly conduct was the farthest thing in his mind at the moment and he knew that when he got his hands on her, he would be brutal. Almost as brutal as his rape had been. He would not stoop to that act of violation but he would come close and she would know what it was she had done to him when she delivered him helplessly into Julius' grip.

Ezra would make her scream like he screamed. 

He was aware that he was nearing the edge of some new aspect of himself. An aspect that Chris Larabee knew all too well. Every man had a breaking point inside of him, that last bastion of self that remained untouched even though fate and experience may batter every thing else senseless. Julius had reached through all those defenses and shattered him inside, splintering his personality into a thousand fragments until Ezra did not even know himself anymore. He thought about Julia and everything they had endured together and knew that no matter what the wreckage his heart had become, each those broken pieces still loved her completely. She was his soul mate. Ezra had often thought himself to be too jaded to think there was someone for everyone but he knew that she was the other half of his soul and he could not do without her.  

He had to go back.  

To take his life back from Julius' vengeance he would have to return to Four Corners. Nothing else would do. It frightened him to think about returning to Julia and to the fellowship of seven that had changed his life so dramatically since his induction into its ranks. He thought about how he would look into their faces and endure them knowing what they did about him. Could he bear it? He had to. Julius had tried to destroy him on so many levels, to the point where he had been willing to die rather than face the humiliation. Through all this despair, the light of understanding speared through the dark and revealed to him that it had been Julius' plan not simply to take his body but to take his life, using a most clever agent to act on his behalf; Ezra Standish.

As it was in the barn, Ezra had to make a choice. Like the other it was a simple question for an extremely complex issue but he realised that he had to make it. Did he want his life back? Did he want to spend the rest of his existence alone and shriveling into some hate filled creature impotent with rage because he had allowed the destroyer of his life to win? Did he really want to give Hannibal Julius the satisfaction? No, he concluded. He did not. He wanted to live. He wanted to be with Julia and marry her. He wanted to do the books for the Lucky 7 ranch because none of its three principals had any sense with money. He wanted to see Elena Rose and little Michael grow up. He wanted to be there when Nathan finally put up that sign reading 'Doctor Jackson'. He wanted all these things and knew that if he walked away, Hannibal Julius would have won. 

Knowing that was almost as terrible as losing everything that meant anything to him. 

Ezra took a deep breath and understood what he had to do. There were a few things he had to take care of first but after which he would reclaim his life and the woman he love. He would have to deal with Julius first and Ezra's only way of finding the self-titled demigod was the woman who was presently in the encampment below with her Indian cohorts. Ezra continued to watch Diana through the night, certain that she would leave before dawn's light. He was correct. Less than an hour before the sun made his appearance in the sky, he saw Diana concluding her business with the Indians and striding purposefully to her horse, with every intention of leaving. Ezra observed her until she mounted up and waved goodbye to her associates. As the indigo sky began to hue with amber, she climbed into the saddle and rode away.  

Ezra studied the direction she went and set off immediately after her, ensuring that she was not followed by any of her Indian friends nor by extension was he seen in pursuit of her. It did not take him long to catch up. Ezra was a better rider than she and knew how to stay far enough behind her to remain unseen while still being close enough to track. His association with Vin Tanner for three years had allowed him to pick some things up. They entered a particularly rocky stretch of a land which Ezra immediately deduced that the Citadel's newest hiding place was somewhere in the same mountains where the Seminole village was located. Ezra hoped it was not nearly that far for it was at least a day's ride and he did not like the idea of Rain's people dealing with the thugs the Citadel seemed largely composed off.  

He took his horse across a trickier path in the rocks than Diana was presently taking to ensure that he would emerge ahead of her. Chaucer did not like navigating the uneasy terrain but the horse obeyed his master nonetheless. Even though it was now dark and the sounds of night were prevalent, Ezra moved quietly, ensuring that nothing gave away his presence. He was not risking the chance of Diana escaping for any reason and steeled himself inwardly to gain possession of her by any means necessary. No matter how much it was beyond the realm of gentlemanly conduct. As far as he was concerned, she had foregone that consideration when she had delivered him to Julius to be raped.

 Ezra positioned himself behind the cover of some rocks and waited until she rounded the corner to make himself known. He could hear the hoofbeats of her mount approaching, crushing gravel underfoot as it made its way up the uneasy terrain. Ezra drew his Remington, more than prepared to shoot her if necessary. He realised that he was running on anger and vengeance but forced his emotions under control as the scent of her perfume carried in the wind and reached him. He had cocked his gun when he was some distance away, not about to give her any clue that he was waiting and had it aimed and ready to fire when she rode into view.

 "Do not move." He warned, his voice icy from more than just the chill air of the night.

 Diana froze and averted her eyes sharply towards the direction of his voice. He dug his heels into his mount and allowed Chaucer to take a few steps forward, letting the moonlight illuminate his features so she knew with whom she was dealing with. He saw her eyes widen amidst the blue glow of the night and knew the fear that crossed her face in an instant of recognition was genuine. "Ezra?" She dared to say.

 "Diana." He responded with a voice that told her immediately she was in dire trouble. "Kindly remove yourself from your horse."

 "Ezra," she sucked in her breath. "What is this about?"

 "GET OFF YOUR HORSE!" He fairly snarled, shattering the silence and making her jump in the saddle. Her horse reared its head at the sudden sound, almost as surprised.  

"Alright!" She cried out, breathing hard because it was very possible that he might kill her where she stood if she did not obey him. After what had been done to him because of her, Diana knew he had more than enough cause to want revenge.

Ezra watched dispassionately as she climbed off the horse, hiding her obvious fear. Once she was on the ground, he ordered her away from the animal, negating any chance she had of escaping him on horseback. "Drop your gun." He ordered once more. 

"I'm not armed." She lied. 

"Of course you aren't." He retorted. "And perhaps I will give you a flesh wound to ensure you do not surprise me while I am searching you." Ezra punctuated that threat by tightening his finger around the trigger of his gun. 

"You're not a killer." She tried impotently to distract him. 

"I was not until you delivered me to Julius." Ezra returned coldly. "After my 'time' with your master, I have become a little more flexible regarding such things. So do not make the mistake of thinking it will not be my extreme pleasure to blow your fucking head off your shoulders."

His words shocked her and she gulped visibly. Muttering to herself a moment later, she reached under her long skirt and removed a revolver held tightly against her thigh in a neat leather holster.  

"Butt first." He reminded and saw her frown as she handled the weapon as instructed, holding it out for him to see clearly. "Throw it away."  

She hesitated, aware that once her weapon was discarded she would be helpless and his state of mind at the present made that a wholly unacceptable situation. Unfortunately, she had not much choice in the matter and complied. Watching her last hope of salvation disappearing into the shadowy cracks of the rocky terrain, Diana placed her life in the hands of fate and hoped it was enough. Once the clatter of the gun had been absorbed into the night, Ezra finally dismounted. His eyes never left her as he lowered himself to the ground; his Remington still aimed and poised to fire at the slightest provocation. 

"Ezra, you must believe me, I had no idea he had planned to do that to you." She declared quickly as he neared her, gun first.

 "Really?" He paused less than a foot away from her. Without giving her the slightest indication it was coming, mostly his voice did not alter one wit in pitch or tone, he dropped her in a backhanded blow across the face. She uttered a small cry as she fell to the ground but Ezra was far from done. She was the first person at whom he had been able to vent his fury at since this had all began, the first person who truly deserved it without question. Grabbing her by her long dark hair, he threw her against the boulder flanking the path and heard the unmistakable crack of bone against the rock. Another cry of pain was heard, followed by the shift into sobs.  

"I swear to you!" She tried to reason with him as she held her bleeding face. "I didn't know!" 

His reaction was a balled fist that sent her slamming into the bolder once more, her head hitting the stone hard. She collapsed to the ground in a sitting position and did not stand up again. Ezra lowered himself to his knee so that he could look her in the eyes as she continue to weep, in pain and bleeding from wounds he ensured would not be permanent. "Do you have any idea what I endured?" He asked, his voice a low whisper, sounding like the quiet snarl of a wolf about to pounce. "Do you have any idea what you did to me when you gave me to him?"

"I thought he wanted revenge!" She cried out through her tears. "I thought he meant to kill you! I didn't know until it was too late that he was going to....." she could not bring herself to say it. 

"Fuck me up the ass?" He finished the sentence for her. "Is that what you intended to say?" He demanded. "I ought to kill you right now for what you have done to me. I would have gladly have preferred dying than being a night's diversion for that bastard. If you did not have your value to me alive, I would already killed you but rest assured, while he is alive and I need to find him, you existence on this earth can continue." 

"I can't deliver him to you!" She responded. "He would kill me!"  

"I will kill you if you don't!" Ezra returned sharply. "Don't make the mistake of thinking that you have a choice in this."

"If you kill me, you won't be able to save Julia!" She tried desperately to bargain for her life. She was afraid of him. God help her, she was terrified of what he would do to her if she refused. He was insane with vengeance and if she did not give him something, she had no doubt he would kill her without a second's thought on the matter. Unfortunately, giving him Julius was something even Diana was not foolish enough to do even as frightened as she was. Julius would hunt her down until he found her and the death that she avoided now, would be prolonged when the Citadel marked her for life.  

"What do you mean?" Ezra demanded, not entirely certain that she was not bluffing to save her skin but if there was danger to Julia then he would indulge her briefly. 

"Julius has incited the Indians in the Territory to riot." She said quickly, feeling her stomach lurched at the metallic taste of blood in her mouth when she spoke.  

"You are hardly telling me anything that I am unaware." Ezra retorted. "Did you think that I would not put it together? Your master has been making the rounds of the Indian encampments, stirring support thought speeches of doom regarding statehood. We were more than aware that he was also providing them with weapons." 

Her eyes widened in shock. "You know?" She asked with a strangled gasp, unable to imagine how such planning had become unraveled.

"If he was not so egotistical as to call himself the Eagle, we would not have guessed his identity but since your master believes he is an incarnation of Julius Caesar, it was rather easy to discover who was behind everything. We have alerted the army. Once they learnt that the Citadel was involved, they were most eager to act. Even as we are having this charming little conversation, troops are mobilizing throughout the Territory." 

"You don't have time!" She hissed, feeling some measure of defiance return in the face of that unsettling news. "They won't be able to get to all the towns in time, especially Four Corners!"  

"Why?" Ezra demanded. "And please do keep in mind how heavily your existence weighs upon the answer to that question." To make his point, he drove the gun straight into her forehead, pressing her skull back into the boulder. 

Diana gulped at the killer anger in his eyes and knew she had to answer him. "Because the attack is tomorrow!" She answered as if the words were wrenched from her. "Hannibal has demanded that your town be attacked first. As a condition for his help, he wants Four Corners wiped off the map!" 

"If this is a lie...."  

"No!" She wept bitterly. "It's not a lie! You know he hates you and Larabee for what happened the last time you thwarted his plans. This is his vengeance not only on you but all the seven! The Apache will attack tomorrow night! That's what I'm doing out here! I was giving them their orders!"  

Ezra had to think quickly.

Tomorrow night! There was hardly enough time to get to town and warn everyone to get out. He was a good hour away from Four Corners. Even if they managed to get the women and children out, what about Four Corners itself? The army would never help them defend the small town, not when facing the choice of saving larger communities like Sweet Water and Eagle Bend! He had to get back there and tell Chris. They needed to form some kind of strategy, some plan of defense. His thoughts were running faster than he could keep up and for the first time in days, something of more than his ordeal at Julius' hand become overridingly important.  

"It appears," Ezra took a deep breath. "That your stay of execution has been belayed for the time being." He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. "We are leaving."

"Leaving?" She asked somewhat dazed. 

Ezra towed her towards Chaucer. "If Four Corners is to be razed to the ground thanks to your efforts, it would be improper of me not to allow you the chance for a ringside view of the proceedings. In other words Diana, if everything I hold dear is to be destroyed tomorrow night, rest assured you will be counted among the dead."

* * *

Chris and Nathan returned to Four Corners very late that night, having little or no success in finding Ezra. The mood between the two men as they rode into town was melancholic and even less so because they would have to tell Julia that they failed to find the gambler. Chris tried not to think how much distance Ezra could have put between himself and Four Corners by now and had this terrible feeling if they did not find Ezra soon, they may never do so. Somehow Chris could not accept that. He could not imagine the erudite gambler being absent from his life. Ezra was a pain in the ass at times but as Chris often like to think to put things in perspective; Ezra was  _their_  pain in the ass. 

"We'll try again tomorrow." Chris said to Nathan as they took their horses to Yosemite's livery. 

"Yeah," Nathan replied glumly, not at all encouraged by that statement and feeling inordinately guilty that this was entirely his fault. He should never have said anything! No matter how much alleviating his burden on Chris eased his conscience and made him feel better, it was not worth the result they were now faced with. Ezra leaving possibly forever. He did not want to think forever but if the gambler took it in his mind to go to ground, Nathan could not see any other possibility.

"Nathan, we'll find him." Chris said firmly, refusing to let the healer feel any worse than he already did. He could see just by the look in Nathan's eyes that the man was blaming himself for this unfortunate state of events.  

"We won't find him unless he wants to be found." Nathan retorted. 

"We'll find him," the gunslinger returned confidently. "When we go out tomorrow, I'll get Vin to come with us." 

"What will you tell him about why Ezra left?" Nathan turned to him immediately. "You can't tell him the truth!" It was more a demand than a question but Chris understood the intensity behind it. 

"I didn't plan on doing that," Chris replied automatically. "I don't need to tell Vin why. Just that we need him to find Ezra is enough. Vin knows that men like to keep their privacy." 

Nathan could believe that too. The relationship between Vin and Chris was like no other. They seemed to feed off each other and one seemed incomplete like the other. When the rest of the seven saw Chris Larabee, they saw their leader and when they saw Vin Tanner, they saw the tracker at his side, like he was always meant to be there. It was unexplainable the bond that existed between the duo, like it was an irrefutable fact of nature that their paths should always run parallel.

With Vin on the case, Nathan felt slightly better though not much. If there were a trail to pick up, the tracker would find it. Nathan had seen Vin pick up the scent of the prey across bare rock to guide the seven. The man's abilities bordered on the uncanny at times and the seven had learnt well not to question its power. "Are you going to tell Julia?" 

"No," Chris shook his head. "I'll wait until morning."

Nathan could understand Chris' reluctance to face the woman. She had been plenty mad at them before they had ridden off after the gambler. No doubt their lack of success would not endear them to her any further. However, Nathan had little chance to debate the issue because they suddenly heard the pounding sound of hooves beating against the ground in heavy approach. Both men immediately halted their advance to the livery to see who was making such a hasty entry into town. It was in the small hours of the night and Four Corners did not see much activity so late. Even the numerous saloons in town would have closed their doors to the public already, with only the drunks who were too inebriated to ride, left to crawl out of the place.  

Chris guided his horse to the general direction of the approaching rider in order to ascertain who was making their arrival into town at this late hour. Fortunately, the full moon offered some illumination but not much. The rider came in hard and appeared not to be alone. Someone else was with him in the saddle. The new arrivals made their way directly to the jail house, prompting Chris forward on his own steed with Nathan following closely behind, neither speaking to give themselves away. Upon arriving at the hitching post of the jailhouse, Chris saw a familiar shape dismounting the equally familiar steed.

"Ezra?" Chris called out, certain it was the gambler. 

"Chris?" Ezra turned sharply towards the gunslinger. "What are you doing out at this unholy hour?" 

"Searching for you, you damn fool!" Nathan burst out, never happier at hearing the man's voice. The healer was off his horse in seconds and gathering the gambler in a happy embrace. He knew that he probably should not have expressed his pleasure to see his friend so personally but Ezra did not push him away even though he stiffened a little at the contact.

"You were looking for me?" Ezra said a little surprised by then told himself he should have known better. They were his friends and if he had been thinking a little more clearly, he would have known that they would have done nothing else  _but_  look for him.

 "We were worried about you." Chris found himself saying, filled with the same kind of joy that Nathan was experiencing but restrained enough not to show it so completely. "Are you okay?"  

Ezra dropped his gaze to the dark ground, uncertain how to answer. He was far from it actually but for the first time since this all began, did not feel as tortured as he had about them knowing. "To tell the truth, not really but I am coping."

"It's a start." Chris said automatically, remembering what Julia had pointed out about his opinion meaning a great deal to Ezra. "Listen," he took a deep breath. "I can't say I understand what you're going through but we want to help, any way we can. If that's means taking a step back, we can do that too. " 

"Why thank you Chris," Ezra answered, genuinely touched by the gunslinger's words. It was not easy for Chris Larabee to get so personal, especially with him and Ezra knew the man enough to know that was said had come from the heart. It had the desired effect of easing his frightened emotions that what happened to him might not be stomached with the men he called friends. Chris had promised that it would go no further then it already had and perhaps Ezra could live with that. "Unfortunately, at the moment, we seem to have a larger problem." He glanced in Diana's direction. 

"What do you mean?" Chris asked as he followed Ezra's gaze.

"Julius has singled Four Corners out for special attention," Ezra announced bitterly. "The Apache contingent of Julius' army will be attacking us tomorrow night. The rest of the Territory will received their comeuppance the following morning."

"Lord!" Nathan exclaimed. "Tomorrow night?"

Chris' mind was whirling. That was almost little or no time to prepare! They had to get the women and children out but if the Indians were sweeping through the Territory, there was no real safe haven for them to go. The army had been notified but Chris had no idea whether or not they would consider Four Corners worth protecting when its population was so small. It was likely that Four Corners would be advised to send its citizens to one of the larger communities where the army would be supplying its forces. Chris let his gaze sweep across the darkened main street of Four Corners and tried to envision the destruction that would take place if they up and left. His stomach hollowed at the prospect. He did not know when this little community had come to mean so much to him but it did and he did not want it destroyed, by Julius of all people.  

It was  _almost_  as bad as what he had done to Ezra. 

"We have to wake everyone up now." Chris said tautly, finally coming to some decision about what they were going to do in the wake of hearing that startling news. 

"How sure are you, she's telling the truth?" Nathan asked as Ezra went to help Diana dismount from the saddle.  

The woman's hands were tied behind her back and that was the only reason why Ezra bothered to help her dismount. When she climbed down, both Nathan and Chris saw the dried blood on her face and knew she had been subjected to rough handling. "What happened to her face?" Chris asked gingerly. 

"The lady fell." Ezra said shortly, not bothering to conceal his lie with any effort. "Miss Belladonna is an agent of Hannibal Julius. It was her task to bring me to him." 

"I see," Chris nodded in understanding and decided that if she had knowingly delivered Ezra to Hannibal Julius for vengeance, then she was fortunate she was still breathing. In his place, Chris did not know whether he would not be so forgiving. "Let's get her into the jailhouse then." Chris replied, having no desire to say anything further about it. 

Nathan was a little more resistant because the healer in him wanted to help but he saw the look in Ezra's eyes and decided against it. After what she did, Ezra could not be expected to behave any differently and he was not about to rebuke the man actions, Nathan might have done himself in the same position.

"I'll go get the others." He offered because the crisis they were facing required all their number in one place to deal with it and it keep him from feeling badly for Diana Belladonna because she sure as hell did not deserve his sympathy. 

* * *

Less than an hour later, all the seven were congregated within the confines of the Standish Tavern with Diana locked away in the jailhouse because Chris did not want any of the seven seeing her or questioning her too closely regarding what had happened to her face. No matter what the justification, Chris would never be able to explain it to Buck without revealing the entire truth and he had no intention of betraying Ezra any further. Besides, he could not guarantee she would keep silent. Nathan had treated her for her injuries, which were mostly superficial lacerations with one slight concussion. He had ensured that she would remain sedated for at least a few hours until they could turn her over to the army to face crimes of conspiracy and whatever else they might see fit to charge her with. Chris did not care as long as she had as little contact with his men as possible.

"Are you sure about this?" Buck asked, not wishing to believe the hell they were in for the next time the sun went down. They were all gathered around one of the empty tables at the Standish Tavern, plying themselves with cups of coffee to wake up even though it felt like they were all in the midst of a nightmare. 

"I saw the lady in discussion with a group of Indians tonight." Ezra responded. He was more prodigious about the coffee than anyone else. Considering how he had been drinking the last few days, it was high time he sobered up and he needed all the help he could get. "I convinced her that it would be expedient if she let us know what we needed. She was cooperative after a fashion I believe she was not lying." 

"Okay, so they're coming." Josiah brushed aside that point for now. "What do we do about it?" 

"We get the women and children out of town first." Buck stated his mind suddenly filled with worries about Inez and Elena Rose and what would happen if they were not evacuated.  

"I don't know where we could send them." Chris responded honestly. "If the town's being watched and it's possible, we could be leading the Apaches right to the women and children. On the other hand if they make it to another town, they're not any safer. The army's going to have their hands full spreading themselves out to defend the number of towns as it is."

"Jesus Chris, this is a goddamn nightmare!" Buck exclaimed and started pacing the floor. 

"Take it easy Buck," Vin drawled. "We'll figure something out."  

"Like what?" He turned on the tracker. 

"Like not biting each other's heads off!" Chris snapped. "Now we need to think. Vin, can we assume they'll be watching us?" 

"Sorry Vin," Buck apologized as he lowered himself into his chair.  

"Its okay Buck," Vin smiled faintly. "I ain't any happier about this either." He remarked and then returned to Chris' question. "They can try watching us but its flat as a tack around here. They need to be some place high to get a good look and there ain't nothing around here that will let them do that." 

"Well that's something," Chris sighed, not about to berate any small favors that came their way. "At least they won't be able to see what we're doing." 

"What if we don't take the women and children to any town?" JD suggested. "What if we sent them to the railroad camp?"

JD waited for someone to object and tell him that was a terrible idea but no one did. Chris seemed to stare at him and then nodded. "That's not bad JD." The gunslinger started to smile at JD and sent a sliver of pride through the young man. "That's not bad at all." 

"If a couple of us escorted them out of town," Vin suggested. "We could keep an eye out and make sure no one was following." 

"Doesn't really matter I don't think." Josiah added. "Since the last time the Citadel tried to take a shot at them, the railroad decided to get their own protection. And there are only so many Indians in the Territory for this plan of theirs to work. If Julius is making a run for the towns against the army, he's not gonna have the men he needs to deal with the railroad too."

"Let's just deal with one thing at a time," Chris moved the discussion along, not wanting to get bogged down into many details, especially when there was so much at stake. "We get the women and children out. We've got a couple of hours of night left so if we can get out of here before the sun comes up, we might be able to slip past them." 

"That would work." Vin agreed. "The lay of the land around here is pretty flat, we head out under cover of the dark, we might get out before anyone knows anything better."

"Well that's the women and children," Nathan responded. "What about the town?" 

"That's a might trickier." Chris sighed. "I guess the decision is do we stay and fight them off or do we get ourselves."

"They'll destroy everything if they don't find someone here." Vin stated. "Just out of spite."

"Or Julius' orders," Ezra added. "Which ever comes first." 

For a few seconds, no one spoke. They were all thinking about the places in Four Corners they had come to love. For Ezra, it was the dream of his tavern, finally realised as it offered them comfort from the night on this very occasion. He thought of Julia's Emporium and the house she loved so much because they were the first things she had ever called her own to love. He did not want her to lose that. The loss of his saloon might be acceptable to him but not her beloved Emporium and home. Vin was similarly engaged in such thoughts centering not around the Emporium but Alex's clinic. It was at the clinic that she had been allowed to practice medicine like a real doctor, she had once said and it was also the home where they shared many happy memories. While Vin would not mind leaving the place when they moved to the ranch, he would mind very much seeing it destroyed.  

The Clarion News was an important part of town and it was an important part of Mary Travis. Everything she had fought for in her solitary existence as a widow before Chris' arrival was waged in that paper and he could not see her lose it. For Josiah, he thought about the church he had lovingly restored, that had become part of his penance and ultimately his life in Four Corners. Nathan felt the same about his infirmary and held parallel fears with Vin Tanner about losing the place that had allowed him to heal so many. Buck Wilmington thought of the Standish Tavern too and how it had been the place where he had once looked across the floor and met the woman he knew he would love until the day he died. His life had really started at that moment because it was where he had met Inez and it was where Elena Rose was conceived. JD did not want Four Corners to disappear because it was here he had found a family again. Every part of it meant something to him, the Clarion News, the church, Nathan's i nfirmary and the Standish Tavern. They were all components of a greater whole and he just knew the town bound them together. To lose it would do irrevocable harm to the Magnificent Seven. 

"We can't go." JD finally said it. "This is my home. I'm not going to let anyone take it from me and I ain't running. They destroy the town and then what? What do we do? Our lives are here, the people we loved are here. This town keeps us together. It disappears and we scatter to the winds. We all know that." He challenged them. 

"Yeah we do." Chris nodded in agreement, glad that JD had said what none of them dared to. "I'll stand with you JD."

"Me too." Vin said automatically and very soon, his voice became many and they sat at the table, decisive as a whole, as seven and considered what they were going to do.  

"Alright," Chris took a deep breath, now that the decision was made. "First off, we wake everyone up. Try and do it quietly, get the men into the grain exchange so we see what they want to do because us seven staying ain't gonna be enough to hold off an Apache war party no matter how bad we want to keep this town in one piece." 

Begrudgingly, they had to concede their leader that point. However, the town had stood up with them once before when Guy Royal and Stuart James had paid a gang of Mexican bandits to lay Four Corners to a siege. They had fended off their attackers well then and it had been a moment of civic pride for everyone involved. Unfortunately, this time they were not facing a bunch of ruthless bandits who were out to find their fortunes in blood, they were fighting a race of people who felt that their very way of life was being forced into extinction. There was nothing fiercer than a man fighting for him home and no matter how they thought the Apaches were usurpers in this instance, the fact was the Indians who had joined Hannibal were fighting for their right to exist.  

They were willing to die for that right and that frightened the seven most of all. 

* * *

Through geometric expansion of information, very shortly after the seven had come to their decision, they were standing within the confines of the grain exchange which often doubled as the courthouse and acted as the impromptu venue for town meetings to discuss events like this one. It was mostly the men of Four Corners who were present with the exception being Mary Travis because she was a strong voice in the community although Chris had decided firmly that she was not remaining in town despite her protests to the fact. The mood throughout the faces before them was one of fear. An Indian war party could engender nothing else. Most of the folk living in Four Corners were not fighting men even though when asked to perform the duty, did so with heart and earnest determination.

"How sure are you about your information?" Virgil Watson asked. His face expressed the sentiment shared by most of Four Corner's residents, that the seven might be wrong.

"Very sure," Chris replied without glancing in Ezra's direction. "It came from Diana Belladonna." He announced and saw a ripple of disbelief move through the crowd at the thought that the woman who had insinuated herself into their community could be involved in this. "She's been working for a man who leads an organizations that wants to overthrow the government." 

"You mean Rebs?" Yosemite called out.

"Not Rebs. They're called the Citadel and they were responsible for the attack on the railroad." Chris did not want to get bogged down in recalling everything the seven knew about Hannibal Julius and his group so Chris gave a quick explanation about what Julius had done to incite the Indians to the state of rebellion whose wrath they were about to face.

"So the question is," Chris looked at all of them. "Do we stay and fight or do we leave. Most of you men have families to think about, so do I." Chris replied giving Mary a little smile as he spoke. "No one will hold anything against you if want to leave. We're not asking anyone to fight who don't want to, we just need to know what we're going to do." 

"I ain't letting no Indian wreck my place!" Virgil shouted. "I worked hard enough to keep it in one piece from every varmint that rode into town. I say we goddamn fight."

Couldn't argue with that of course, Chris thought to himself. But of course they were detractors to the idea, which appeared predictably in the form of Mr Conklin. It hardly surprised Chris or the seven when the man stood to his feet and called for his brand of reason.

"This town ain't worth dying for," Conklin shouted to those present. "None of us know anything about fighting Indians!" He made his impassioned plea to his neighbors but his supporters were few.  

Many had been in Four Corners as long as Conklin and had ridden out numerous storms that should have driven lesser men away. They had prevailed far too long to be chased away now. Besides, there were very few placed they could go if the Indians planned a united attack across the Territory. Hiding with their women and children seemed like a temporary measure when it appeared the entire state was in similar strife.

 "We have to fight." Mary Travis suddenly spoke out to confront Conklin's challenge as she had done on numerous occasions. "We don't have a choice. If we walk away from Four Corners, they'll destroy it, like they're going to destroy everything else. It won't be a question of rebuilding here; it will be a question of rebuilding anywhere. The Indians aren't stopping here; they're sweeping through the rest of the Territory as well. If the army doesn't stop them, Bitter Creek, Sweet Water, Eagle Bend is all going to suffer like we are. The army is choosing to defend those places because they think Four Corners is an acceptable loss. I'm sorry but my home and my newspaper is not a casualty of war! If I have to I'll stay here and defend it with my husband so be it but we can't do it alone. It's going to take all of us!"  

She was something to watch his wife when she stood up for what she believed in, Chris Larabee thought as he saw her. There was no man in the room that did not feel the power of her words and Chris could not imagine how would it be if Mary had been born a man and led others. With a sudden start, he realised that she would almost command the loyalty that Hannibal Julius had amongst his followers. For the present however, her speech had done what it set out to do and Chris could see the agreement in the faces of the townsfolk that it was time to fight. Conklin and a few others like him would no doubt leave with the women but the general consensus was to stay and fight.  

"That's one hell of a lady you got there," Buck whispered in his ear as he saw the crowd being won over. 

Chris could not disagree. Once the town came to the decision of staying and defending Four Corners against the coming Indian raid things became a good deal trickier. Chris disbanded the meeting and ordered the men who were staying to tend to their families and ensure that they be read to leave within the hour. There was still three or four hours of twilight remaining and the best chance of getting the women and children out of town was to do so in the dark, in case anyone was watching the town to counter any attempts by its citizens to escape. Despite what Mary had stated about remaining behind to protect Four Corners, Chris had no intention of allowing her to stay. Their two boys needed at least one parent alive and well if anything happened to him.

Mary was in the process of tending to Billy when she walked past the baby's room and saw Chris holding Michael in his arms. For a moment, she froze watching her husband cradle his infant in his hands and watching as that hard gaze so indicative of Chris Larabee disappear into something soft and tender. His lips crooked upwards in a little smile as he held little Mikey in his arms, close to his body. The child was drawn to his father's heartbeat and listened closely for a few minutes without moving, as if content to remain where he was. Mary watched feeling tears glisten in her eyes.

"Chris." She said softly, her voice almost a strangled gasp. 

"You ready?" He asked, raising his eyes gently to meet hers. 

"I can't do this." She answered almost choking on her tears. "I can't leave you here." 

"Mary," Chris sighed, understanding her hesitation but unable to yield on this point. "You have to take the boys away from here." He said gently. "You have to because I can't." 

"I don't want to lose you," she cried out softly. "I love you so much." 

Chris lowered Michael into his crib and then approached his wife, taking her face in his hands and planting a kiss on her enticing lips. "I love you more than anything Mary but I can't do what I have to here if I'm worrying about you. You know that." 

"I know," she wiped her tears. "I just think of you're facing and I can't help...." 

"Hey," he smiled, stopping her before she could say it. "We've been through worse."

"Worse seems to be a fact of life for us." She tried to keep her spirits up knowing that it harmed him to see her this way.

 "I'll be fine." He said drowning in her blue grey eyes. "I promise you I'll come get you myself when it's safe." 

"I'll hold you to that," she whispered as she buried her face in his shoulder, needing very much to be held, especially when it could be the last time. Unable to deny her in this as he was able to deny anything he felt about Mary, Chris did just that; he held her. 

* * *

"Alex no!" Vin Tanner declared, wondering why things could never be easy with her.

"Vin!" Alex faced her husband, determined for him to hear her out no matter how adamant and seemingly unmovable he was on this issue. "You need me!"

They were both standing in their kitchen, having this argument which Vin really did not have time for. He had hoped that the seriousness of what they would be facing would put the fear of God into his wife and make her obey him without question but he ought to have known better, there was little Alex did not fear. Actually fear was the incorrect word. There was little she would not do when she believed she was needed to render medical aid. They stood facing each other, two indomitable wills determined to have their own way except Vin was just a little more determined that she.  

"I ain't denying that," he retorted. "But you ain't staying." 

"Vin, with Nathan needed to defend the town. You'll need a doctor!" Alex implored wishing he would see reason.

 "And when we're done fighting we'll come and get you but not until then." He stated firmly. 

"But Vin....." she started to protest. 

"ALEX NO!" Vin almost roared at her, driving her a step backward from the sharpness of his voice. "Alex, I love you but for right now, shut and listen to me."

Alex gulped and came to the unconscious realization that perhaps she might have pushed him too far. It was not often that he exerted himself so strongly but when he did, Alex knew when it was time to be silent and listen. 

"The Apache don't take prisoners and they're plenty mad. There's a pretty good chance that we won't be able to stop them. If we don't and they find you alive. The least they will is kill you, do you understand?" 

Alex nodded reluctantly but she understood. "I don't want to leave you." She finally admitted what all the posturing and noble intentions displayed were meant to conceal. She was terrified of losing him to whatever waited for him tomorrow at sunset and worse yet, being far away if these were indeed his last hours. "If I stayed and anything happened to you at least I could help, somehow." Her resolved expression started to quake and with its fallibility came all her insecurities. "Please let me stay, I promise I'll hide and I won't be any trouble." 

Her plea broke his heart but he could not give in to her, not this time.  

"You can't stay Doc," he swallowed hard, feeling the emotion strangle him as well. "I wish you could but I can't let you do it. I need to know that you're safe, that you will go on if I don't."

 "Don't say that!" She cried out. "I don't even think about that happening. I can't stand to be without you Vin!"  

"I know," he said trying to be the strong one here as she started to crumble before him. He took her into her arms to calm her, letting her mould quickly into his embrace as she started to weep. "I'll be okay Alex," he whispered gently into the cool strands of her hair. "You know I can't stand to be away from you for too long."

"So you say," she pulled back from his embrace so that he could look into his eyes. "I'll go Vin." She said finally, regaining her composure. "For you I'll go."

"Thank you Doc," Vin smiled and lowered his lips to her forehead and planted a gentle kiss on her skin before responding with equal affection. "For you, I'll stay alive."

* * *

Across Four Corners, the men who were sending their families away to safety were making their farewells. Ezra was not one of them. It was almost reluctantly that he found himself walking to her home, aware that she would be in fast and furious preparation for her departure, wondering how he would face her. A part of him had no wish to do this. He had not seen her alone since striking her and was so ashamed of his behavior he could barely stomach it. No matter how terrible what Julius had done to him, Ezra could fathom any reason that would justify his brutalizing her in the way he had done. She had no knowledge of what had happened to him and Ezra was starting to have this sneaking suspicion that perhaps if he had told her, the world would not come to an end as he believed it would. It certainly had remained quite when Chris Larabee had learnt about his ordeal. However, it was too late for that now, she knew the full ugly truth and Ezra would have to deal with that.

Entering the back door of the house, he made his way through its corridors to hear the sounds of Julia packing a few things into a small bag for the duration of her time away. He stood by the doorway for a minute, not daring to enter the bedroom, which had been the venue for so many warm memories for them. Suddenly, on the verge of losing her forever inside the Wilmington barn, Ezra discovered that despite the agony of his physical violation, the emotional one was far, far worse. He had not only been prepared to throw his life away but also Julia and in the light of day, came to realize with certainty how foolish that would have been. He watched her silently for a moment, basking in the beauty of her and flinching at sight of the ugly bruise on her skin inflicted by him.  

Julia paused what she was doing, sensing something on the edge of her consciousness and looked over her shoulder to see Ezra standing at her doorway of her bedroom silently. She had no idea how long he had been there but seeing him filled her with joy, even though she was hurt he had not come to see her before this.  

"Ezra." She uttered softly. 

"I'm sorry." He said before she could say anything else. Nothing else would come until he said that much. "I am so sorry."

"Oh Ezra," Julia melted and crossed the floor, pausing inches away from him. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked. 

Ezra blinked and dropped his gaze from hers, unable to look her in the eye until he had regained some measure of composure. He was so ashamed at harming her and now she was standing before him, her eyes telling him in no uncertain terms that she loved him still. "I didn't know how." He swallowed thickly. "I just could not endure you thinking that I might have deserve....."

"I could never think that!" She went to him, her hand touching his face and drawing some measure of comfort by his not flinching as he had done during her previous attempts to make contact. His eyes touched hers and she saw the glistening pools of the ocean reflected back at her. "Don't you know? I love you. I could never think that. I've been there Ezra, I know what it's like to be abused and humiliated. For a long time, I kept that hidden inside of me, I wouldn't trust anyone with it but you knew and you loved me still, no matter how unthinkable it was. Do you not think I would not do the same for you?" 

"I was not thinking at all," he confessed. "I was reacting. I could not imagine telling you. I thought if I did you would never understand, that you leave me and I could not bear that." 

"Oh Ezra," she sighed. "I would never leave you. I wished you had told me, I might have been able to help you." 

"I still need help." He said quietly. "I still feel this need to run and hide each time I see you and my associates." 

"Chris wants to help." Julia returned automatically. "He felt terrible about having to tell Josiah. I think he did it to keep Josiah from hurting you after he saw my face." 

"Josiah had every right to be angry," Ezra declared. "Hitting you was contemptible." His fingers brushed her cheek and the bruise he had caused and felt another shudder of disgust running through him at what he had done. "I will never forgive myself for that." 

"You had good cause," she returned, not wishing him to feel any worse than he already did. There were too many things he felt badly about already. She had no wish to make a bruise that would fade away in a day or two one of those things.

"That is never a good cause," Ezra retorted sharply. "What happened to me does not justify Julia."

 "Perhaps not," she said gently, making her look into her eyes so that he understood that she forgave him. "But I won't hold it against you."

 "You deserve better than me." He whispered, his emotions surfacing so strongly in the face of her astonishing and unflagging love for him that he had trouble controlling himself. "I do not know how I will be after all this Julia but if you wish to go, if you need to leave me. I will understand." 

Julia lifted her lips to his and was pleasantly surprised when he did not pull away. Their kiss was tentative, it could be nothing more but she was encouraged by his reaction, which was a far cry from the rejection she had experienced previously. "Ezra, marry me." 

"What?" He looked at her, wondering if she was mad. 

"I want to marry you Ezra." Julia said firmly. "Now more than ever." 

He was shocked. He never expected such an uncompromising show of love from her. He had thought she would be disgusted, that she would turn from him. He considered that perhaps she might attempt to stick by him but would not have been surprised if she had not. He loved her dearly but until now, did not even consider they would survive the next few days, let alone a lifetime. "I do not need pity." 

"It's not pity!" She cried out, unable to believe that he would think that but supposed that in his state of mind, why would he not think such a thing. "Its an affirmation of how sure I am that we will get through this. I am willing to marry you right now because I  _know_  that I will never change how I feel about you and because what happened to you will  _never_  matter to me. I know that I want to be with you forever and I want  _you_  to know it as well." 

"Madam you are insane." Ezra replied but he was touched and moved.  

"And you are avoiding the issue." She teased. "Come on Mr Standish, make an honest woman out of me and I will love you every day for the rest of your life."  

He stared at her and had no idea what to say. A few hours ago, he was not certain that he could ever pick up the pieces of his life in the face of Hannibal Julius' attack. Somehow he had come back to Four Corners and discovered he was not a creature reviled by Chris Larabee but a friend in need and now the only one who held Julia Pemberton's heart. It was a sobering experience to wake up and find that the nightmare of his life the past week was dissipating. He was far from recovered and his thirst for vengeance was fierce but for the first time since this had all began, he could see an end to it.

"When this is over." Ezra whispered softly. "We will talk about this." 

"We will." She said firmly. "You just remember when you're fighting those Indians that I love you and I always will. Nothing will ever change that for me Ezra, not even what that bastard did to you. We're creatures alike you and I. We always have been. I understand what you're going through and what you will go through. I had to do it alone but you don't. You have friends who will walk through fire for you and deep inside you know that's true. You have a woman who will never break your heart. That's more than most people in your situation get, please don't forget it." 

"I could never forget anything about you," Ezra replied as he took the hand that was on his chest and enclosed it in his palm, reveling in the silky texture of her skin and glad that her touch did not repulse him as much as it had. Perhaps she was right after all, that it would take time to heal and though he did not know whether he could tolerate any more than this for awhile, it was good to know that there was some progress made. "I carry you in my heart Julia, wherever I go."

"Come back to me," she pleaded softly. "Come back to me safe." 

* * *

The women were packed up in numerous wagons and astride their horses. A rag tag collection about to begin their exodus out of town. Accompanying them to the railroad encampment was Vin Tanner astride Peso, Josiah Sanchez and JD Dunne. They would take the convoy as far as they could, ensuring they were safe before heading back to town. Chris would have liked the trio to accompany the fleeing citizens of Four Corners all the way to the camp but he needed them back too badly. There as so much to do and he needed all his men present if they were going to survive this attack. Daylight was coming upon them fast and the hours would fast when the day was needed so badly to prepare for the night. 

He watched the convey move off into the darkness, knowing that among those souls disappearing into the distance was Mary and his two boys. His heart felt torn between staying and going with them to ensure they were safe. Unfortunately, he also needed to ensure that there was something for them to come back to. He felt some measure of relief knowing that Vin and the others journeying with his family for part of the way. If he could not be there himself. It was just as good to have the tracker present in his stead.

Chris saw Ezra watching Julia's carriage disappearing amongst the wagons that were presently departing the town and came alongside the gambler, wanting to see how the man was faring. After the ugly incident earlier the day before, Chris marveled at how much Ezra had pulled himself together in order to be counted among the seven during this crisis. Chris could not claim he would have recovered as well if he were in Ezra's place. Then again, no one could possibly claim that because no one could imagine being in the situation Ezra had been. 

"You okay?" Chris asked as he stood next to the gambler, following his gaze into the night. 

"I have decided to live." Ezra responded, his eyes still facing front and not making contact with Chris. 

"That's always a good start." Chris nodded in approval. 

"You speak from experience." He replied. It was not a question. 

"Yeah," Chris nodded again, casting his mind back to the fateful day he had come to the same realization. "Day after we came back from Ella's, I decided to I was going to live. Quit waiting for that bullet that I'd been praying would take me for the last three years."

 Ezra turned his head to face Chris. "That long?" The gambler exclaimed, making no attempt to hide the surprise in his voice. "It took you that long to decide?" 

"Yeah," the gunslinger chuckled at seeing the surprise in Ezra's face. "Until then I'd been existing not really living at all. I had been ever since Sarah and Adam had died. Buck kept me form eating a bullet but he couldn't make me start living again. That took time and the swift kick in the pants that Ella provided. I suppose if there was one good thing that came from meeting up with her, it was that. The day I got her letter in my hands, telling me that we'd be together again, I had something to live for."

"Revenge?" Ezra asked. 

"No," Chris replied. "It was the look in Mary's eyes." 

Ezra remembered that Mary had been particularly quiet. The rest of the seven had expected her to be nursing Chris back to health with the care she usually afforded all of them but instead, she had remained strangely detached, almost as if she did not want anything to do with him. "I recall that she stayed away for a good deal of your convalescence. Is that why?"

"I think so. I think she stayed away because I hurt her." Chris confessed without hesitation. "I looked into her eyes and I knew she was wondering why it was so easy for me to walk away from Four Corners and take up with a woman I hadn't seen for years, who was bribing with a ranch." 

"You were offered something better." Ezra pointed out. "You thought you were."

 "I did." Chris agreed. "You made that decision a lot faster than I came to it Ezra and you didn't need to almost lose your life to make it. I admire you for that."

Ezra thought about the game he played in the Wilmington barn. The game with one bullet in an empty chamber and knew he could not accept credit for that. It could have gone either way at that point. He could have taken the coward's way out and not have to face a single hardship because he would be gone. He would not have learnt that the friends who knew were trying to understand and the woman he loved did understand and cared little for whatever disgrace he thought he might visit upon her by their continued association. People could surprise you and never more then at this moment when Chris Larabee was lowering his defenses to speak of things he seldom discussed with anyone.  

"There is nothing to admire," Ezra said softly, unable to lie when Chris was being so unusually open. "I came to my senses and I still want vengeance. Before this is done, I _will_ kill him Chris." 

Chris saw the look in his eyes when the gambler made that statement and knew that it was no idle threat and neither was the offer Chris was about to make. 

"For what he did to you Ezra," Chris replied perfectly serious. " I'll help."  


	9. The Wild Card

 

Preparations were being made in earnest to deal with the coming attack when the sun went down on this day.

Ezra had spent much of the morning aiding those efforts, which seemed Herculean, in the face of how much time they truly had and the wrath of the enemy they faced. The army had told them to clear out as predicted that Four Corners was a small place they could afford to expend men and supplies to defend when there were larger towns with greater populace at stake. If anything the reply served to deepen the resolve of those who had chosen to stay. It was as if their success would not be merely an issue of victory over the enemy but rather a defiant gesture for those who think they were incapable of defending themselves, not matter what the odds.  

Chris had all the appearance of a general leading not only the six men who made up the Magnificent Seven but everyone in town as he directed them in their preparations. Strange how the black garbed gunslinger who was capable of striking fear into the hearts of so many could also boost the spirit of men to fight like lions when he stood at their head. The kind of charisma and faith he inspired was in Ezra's opinion; far more potent than anything Hannibal Julius could engender in his wildest dreams. There were men like Hannibal who dreamt of glory and then there were men like Chris of whom glorious dreams were made.  

Ezra had no such need for such lofty ideals. At the moment, his needs were simpler and he would have them fulfilled. Their current calamity had not detracted him from that purpose as he entered the jailhouse while everyone was busy fortifying the town like Troy awaiting an onslaught from angry Achaensbearing gifts. He shut the door behind him and crossed the floor to the barred cells and saw his quarry was exactly where she had been left. Chris had ensured that Diana Belladonna had no chance of telling anyone else what she knew about his situation, to which the gambler was eternally grateful and went a long way to instilling him with confidence that Chris would keep his secret confined to those who already knew.

She was awake and sitting upright on her bed when she saw him. His appearance immediately drove her to the corner of the bed and she was huddled against the wall when he finally stopped his approach. Her wide eyes stared at him with unrelenting fear because she had understood during their last encounter how little he regarded her life in the face of his vengeance. What she knew about him and his character no longer applied after what Julius had done to him. She was accustomed to being in control and the night before had showed her how fragile the foundations of such belief could be.

"What do you want?" She asked trying to keep her voice steady. She failed. 

He held the keys to her cell in and when he stared at her through the lengths of metal that were her jail bars, his eyes were black and unlike the man she had tried to charm since her arrival in Four Corners. "Where is he?" Ezra asked simply.

"I can't tell you that!" She cried out. "He'll kill me." 

"Fine." Ezra replied smoothly, already prepared for his answer. "You have two options Miss Belladonna, I advise that you consider them carefully. I want Hannibal Julius. I will get him with your help or without it, I prefer the former." 

"I can't give you what....." she started to say again.

"Do not interrupt me." He retorted coldly and silenced her instantly with an audible gulp. "If you do not help me I will not kill you. I have not digressed that far into barbarity where you are concerned, despite your selling me out for 30 pieces of silver but what you will help me. If not, I will release you ensuring that Julius knows that it was you who warned us not only of the attack tonight but also of his entire campaign in the Territory. I will say that you were paid very well to become our creature, just as you were his and trust me when I tell you that I can be entirely convincing. Even if he does not believe that you were paid, he will believe that you betrayed him. You are unaccounted for and you are the only one who could have done so. I would be surprised if you made it out of the state and after the revenge he had planned for me, I would seriously worry what he would to a woman if he had dared a rape a man."

Diana listened quietly without saying a word, knowing that when he reached the end of his recital she would be required to make an answer but she had none to give. Everything he had stated was the truth. Julius would kill her and horribly if he believed for instant that she had betrayed. Unfortunately even if she did run, she had no place to go. Her people would see her just as guilty as Julius and would be even more brutal in their vengeance, if such at thing was even possible. She felt the walls of her choices closing in on her and knew that she was trapped with nowhere to go. 

"I didn't do it for the money." She whispered as if it would matter to him. "I did it for my people."

"Your people being?" Ezra asked, showing no sympathy. He could not feel that for this creature even if she was a misguided patriot.

"My people being the Apache." She met his gaze. "I'm part Apache. I was trying to help my people."

"Yes," Ezra returned dispassionately, "I can see how delivering me to Julius would accomplish that." 

"I have to help him," she declared empathetically. "He promised to give my people back our lands. More and more we are being herded into reservations until one day that will be the only place where we exist. I was trying to do the best for them, to keep us from becoming extinct."

"And you actually believe Hannibal will make this happen?" Ezra did not know to be astonished by her naivete or to feel pity at her delusion. 

"Yes." She nodded. "I am apart of his Citadel because he's the only chance we have." 

"The only chance," Ezra shook his head at the full horror of their confusion. "Do you know the tale of Caesar crossing the Rubicon?" He asked softly. 

"No." She shook her head, glad that he did not intend to continue with his tirade of reminding how hopeless her situation was.

"Caesar crossed the Rubicon and brought and army into Rome where he was able to gain absolute control over the entire Roman Empire. Until then, no army foreign or domestic was allowed to into the city. He destroyed the Republic when he crossed the Rubicon and held the Senate to ransom, making himself a living god among his people. Hannibal believes that he is Caesar in this life and what he has tricked your people into doing, is crossing the Rubicon for him. The Apache, the Commanche and just about every Indian nation that took part in this plan of his will be butchered by the army but not before they create so much chaos that Julius and the Citadel will be the only ones who can promise an end to the slaughter. He may succeed and he may not but your people will pay the price. You think you were on the verge of destruction before? Now you have tipped the balance and fallen over it."

"You don't know anything!" She cried out refusing to believe that it could be so simple.  

"I know people and I know Julius. When the fighting is over in the Territory, he will offer order and he has a real army of followers behind him to ensure that he can maintain that order. If you are as closely aligned to him as you claim then you know that." 

Diana refused to believe that she and her people could be misled so easily. "You're wrong." She stammered. 

"Am I?" He countered. "Julius wants to be emperor as Caesar once became an emperor, do you think if that ever happens that he will simply hand over part of his empire to your people for their use? Are you truly that naive?" 

"You don't know anything."  She repeated herself because if he was right she was the instrument of her people's destruction.

"Perhaps not," Ezra sighed, unprepared to debate the issue because as far as he was concerned, the die was cast unless Julius was killed now, before he let his fanatics on some crusade that could make the coming blood bath, the first of many. "I do know that your only chance of surviving any of this is if I kill him and hopefully that will be enough to pull your people back before it is completely too late for them."

 "You talk as if you care about my people," Diana spat bitterly. "All you really care about is getting your hands on Julius."

Ezra stared at her. "I have no wish to see genocide being committed upon the indigenous populace of the Americas but I am going to dispense with any effort to tell you to tell you that I do not want Julius dead. I want him and he will be dead but first, you will tell me where he is. You will tell me where he is because you care about your people. With Julius were gone, they may yet be able to save themselves from the destructive course they had set, not only for themselves but for those who did not choose to fight but remain neutral in this insidious scheme." 

Diana blinked slowly feeling furious thoughts running through her mind despite her outward calm. He was right of course. She had followed Julius because she had believed in her cause and his sincerity to help not only the Apaches but also all the Indian tribes. However, she had been bothered about a few minor things and the vast number of people in his organization frightened her. What Julius had done to Ezra had clearly unnerved her but it was not as terrible as thinking she might be wrong about his honest desire to help them. For Ezra was correct on one point; the army would react to any uprising in the extreme. There would be no turning back from what happened tonight except if Julius were suddenly gone. It might cause enough reaction among the participating tribes for them to pause what they were doing, to stop before they reach the point of no return. It was worth a try at least. 

"Damn you," she glared at him, realizing she had no other choice. "Damn you and Hannibal to hell." 

"We're all damned one way or the other," Ezra said indifferently. "Question are you going to damn your people?" 

Looking into her eyes, Ezra knew her answer before she even spoke. 

* * *

Casey did not feel so good. 

She had been in the wagon with Nettie for a good hour or more now and felt a slight tingle of heat beneath her skin from the onset of their journey. She worried little about it because she had discovered her unfortunate state, she had been suffering all kinds of discomfort, vomiting, nausea, mood swings just to name a few. However, she had to confess that cramps had not been one of them until today. At first she had tried to ignore the constant spasms in her lower regions, keeping silent mostly to maintain the secrecy of her condition. With sitting Nettie at the head of the wagon, following the convoy to its hiding place and leaving Four Corners behind, the young girl felt as if her aunt had enough to worry about without adding her own difficulties to the mix.  

She bit down and ignored the cramping for the next hour, trying not to let apprehension be borne out of the rising intensity of her abdominal distension. When the pain began to reach a kind of apogee where it was becoming increasingly difficult to hide, Casey wondered if this was some for of holy retribution for what she had been intending to do about her situation. Beads of sweat began to form on her skin as dawn began to ascend above the horizon. She had to stay quiet, had to endure this until they got to the camp and she could find Alex. If she said something now, she'd have to explain it to Nettie and then JD who was accompanying the exodus out of Four Corners, would know. She could not bear that!

 He had been so good to her after finding out what Blackwood had done. He treated her as if she were a victim, to be handled gently and reminded constantly that he did not blame her for what happened that she was abused viciously by his father. How could she tell him that she was now carrying Blackwood's child? How much could he take before he wanted to be rid of the whole situation? Who would blame him if he did? Casey had to endure this pain that felt like her insides were being twisted. She could not risk anyone knowing because she could not risk JD finding out the truth she had been hiding from him this past week. 

"Lord girl," Nettie remarked as she was driving the wagon. "You sure can sleep."

"Sorry Aunt Nettie," she uttered a strained response. 

Something in her voice immediately caught Nettie's attention and the older woman looked over her shoulder at her young charge. What she saw made her pull up the reins to the horses of her wagon instantly. Casey was lying on the back tray, almost in a fetal position, her face trying to conceal the pain that was obviously wracking her body. However what had captured her attention most was the blot of crimson that was spreading out across the girl's long skirt. Panic immediately beset the woman and she quickly climbed into the back to help her niece who was suffering from something she had knew nothing about.

"Casey," Nettie made Casey look at her. "You're bleeding! Why are you bleeding?" She demanded, knowing that there was far too much blood to be just a case of the monthlies coming at an unguarded moment.

"I didn't want you to know," Casey started to sob as she felt the slickness against her thighs and realised with despair that she was going to be able to hide nothing from her aunt or for anyone at this rate. "I didn't want anyone to know!" She wept quietly. 

"Know what?" Nettie asked but she could guess. The location of the bleeding gave Nettie a good idea where it had originated but she had to ask to be sure.  

"I'm pregnant." She whispered. "I'm pregnant and its Blackwood's!" 

Nettie closed her eyes to absorb that information, feeling an unprecedented swell of hatred against the man who had reduced her darling niece to this state. She wished she could have killed the man. She would have if she had been given the choice but Nettie along with the seven had made the best decision for Casey by remaining silent and letting Blackwood leave without incident. They had hoped that his leaving would allow Casey to deal with her ordeal a little easier but once again Blackwood had bested them in that desire. He had left Casey something behind to always remember him. Damn, Nettie hated that man with an intensity she never knew was possible until now.

"You hush now," Nettie said firmly, not at all wishing Casey to think that she was at fault. Looking around, she reached for a folded blanket and spread it out quickly over Casey, hiding tell tale signs of what Nettie was certain was a miscarriage in the process of taking place. The blanket would not rouse too much suspicion as Casey was sweating profusely and anyone who did not happen to be a doctor might think she was a feverish. "I'll get Alex." 

"Yes," Casey nodded wildly. "Please get Alex." 

Nettie realised then that Casey had confided in Alex about her problem and felt a tinge of jealousy that the doctor had more of Casey's trust than herself. However, Nettie brushed that thought away because it would not serve at the moment. Besides, it would make sense that Casey went to Alex first. The doctor would help confirm whether or not she was pregnant and it would not be wrong to say that Casey might believe Nettie would be angry with her. After all, the young tended to believe the old were so set in their ways that they might not understand youthful troubles.  

The boys were still riding shotgun to the convoy so naturally all Nettie had to do was stand up and wave one of them to her. The rest of the convoy was proceeding by them and a few faces were looking in their direction to discern why they had stopped. It was Vin Tanner who caught sight of Nettie first and the tracker immediately galloped towards the old lady. Fortunately, JD was on the far side of the convoy at the moment, so he would not have seen Nettie's request for help. Vin arrived on Peso a few seconds later, bringing his horse along side the carriage and looking into the tray of the wagon where Nettie and Casey were presently. 

"What is it?" Vin asked although he could clearly see that Casey was suffering some kind of ailment. 

"We need Alex," Nettie declared without hesitation. "Something isn't right with Casey."

Vin met the old lady's gaze and nodded simply, requiring no other explanation then that. The tracker tipped his hat forward briefly in Nettie's direction before he started riding towards his wife's wagon. Once he had gone to fetch Alex, Nettie turned back to Casey and dabbed a handkerchief on the young woman's glistening forehead. Her temperature was up and her skin felt warmer than usual against Nettie's palm. The old lady tried to remain calm, reminding herself that Casey needed her this way. 

"Its gonna be alright Casey." Nettie cooed softly even though she was still weeping softly. "I promise." 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you Aunt Nettie," Casey met her gaze with tear filled eyes. "I didn't want anyone to know. I was just so ashamed."

"You got nothing to be ashamed of Casey," Nettie said with hesitation and with the firm voice that told Casey that she was to be believed and obeyed. "You ain't the one who did wrong here. That was Blackwood. Its a woman lot to bear the consequences of a man's needs but you didn't even get that choice. He's a low down animal that did this to you, don't ever believe that you were responsible."

Casey did not answer but at least Aunt Nettie understood. Even it was not the whole truth. 

* * *

Night started to descend and Vin felt time pressing up against his spine in icy cold tendrils.

There was a hushed silence throughout the town and nothing stirred almost as if its citizens had indeed abandoned the town. Vin stood on the roof of the Emporium for it was the tallest building in town and afforded a sweeping view of the flat terrain before them. On the other side of town, Buck Wilmington had taken up similar position on the roof the grain exchange. They were the sentries that would watch for the first signs of the coming attack. Vin forced away the involuntary urge to think about Alex whom he had left hours ago with Casey Wells. He hoped the young woman came through her ordeal in on pieces and was glad that he had forced Alex to join the convoy. If she had not, there was no telling what would have happened to Casey in her time of need. Fortunately, he had managed to keep JD far enough away for the young man to discover what state his fiancée was in. Casey was having a bad enough time without having to deal with telling about her situation. As far as Vin was concerne d, it was all women's business anyway. 

He looked into the night and could feel the air of anticipation was moving through Four Corners like a drifting mist. Diana Belladonna had provided no information about how large a war party they were about to encounter but to take a town, Vin guessed it had to be sizeable. While Vin tried not to feel empathy for the Indians in this instance, he could not help himself. He had spent time with the Commanche, Kiowa and the Apache, although the latter was something he tried not think about too often for the unpleasant memories that it brought to surface. However, he could understand why they had been driven to this course even if it was pure foolishness and would hasten their demise as a race rather than save it. 

He heard someone climbing up the ladder to the roof and felt no alarm because he guessed who it was even before that person made his appearance. Chris Larabee emerged a second later through the accessway from the floor below and stepped on to the roof, keeping his head low as he approached Vin whose gaze was still fixed in the distance. He could see nothing yet and wondered how long it would take for their attackers to appear. Almost all lights in the town were illuminated, giving the Apaches the indication that their attack would have the element of surprise. Chances are a few scouts would attempt to infiltrate the town first and give a signal for the others to appear if things were not as they anticipated.

"Any sign?" Chris asked quietly as he took a seat next to Vin. 

"No," the tracker shook his head. "Not a damn sign of them." 

"I hope Ezra is right about this." Chris muttered. "A lot of scared men down there as it is." 

"They're coming." Vin said firmly. 

"You know something I don't?" Chris looked at him.

"No," Vin's profile revealed his lip curling into a little smile. "I saw the look in Naiche's eyes. He was spoiling for a fight. Can't say he doesn't have cause but he's angry."

Vin's attention shifted from Chris when he saw something in the distance. Something moving through the dark in a vague shadowy shape. No sound out of the ordinary was made as he saw the shape move closer and closer to the edge of light that kept the town aglow. The moon was still full so Vin had been able to make out the shape as it approached. He grabbed Chris and immediately pulled the gunslinger to the ground, so that they would remain unseen. Chris understood and made no reaction, pulling off his hat so that that the line of the roof would remain unbroken. 

"How many did you see?" Chris asked in a soft whisper. 

"Just the one." Vin said quietly. "But there'll be more coming from different places around town."

Vin removed his slouch had and continued to watch the shape he had spied breaking into the light of the town and moving quickly towards the livery. He took a deep breath and knew that as soon as the scouts penetrated the building it was time to move. Very early on when planning the strategy of how they would deal with the attack, Chris has decided that they would have to catch the enemy by surprise. Vin knew enough about the Apache to know the signals they would use to alert their brethren waiting in the dark that it was safe to attack. The only way to use this information was to discern early on when the scouts would be coming in order to trigger the signal that would bring the others.

"I guess this is it." Vin looked at Chris. 

"I guess so." Chris replied and nodded slightly.  

The citizens of Four Corners, not to mention the seven were mobilized for the Apache call that Vin would make when the time had come. The Apache scouts who penetrating the township of Four Corners would soon discover that despite the lights in every house, many of the buildings would be unoccupied because the men who had opted to stay and fight were already in position for the coming onslaught. A perimeter of dynamite had been created a safe distance from the Four Corners. As when the bandits paid by Stuart James and Guy Royal had attacked the town, it was necessary to follow the same strategy because Four Corners was indefensible any other way because there were no natural landmark to keep the enemy from coming at them from all directions. 

"Do it." Chris ordered and hoped to hell that they were ready because there would be no second chances if they were not. 

Vin nodded and cupped his hands together before uttering the Apache signal that would bring the war party out of hiding. The sound sliced through the quiet of the night, an imitation of an animal native to these parts. In the distance an answer was given in the same imitation and Vin could imagine the confusion of the scouts who were at this moment, wondering which one of their number had given the signal prematurely. Vin returned the signal again, allowing the Apache to get confirmation that they had heard correctly. This time the answer received was a high pitched war cry that shattered the stillness of teh night and settled irrevocably the question of Ezra's information. 

It began with a low thunder of horses that came from a distance. Chris knew everyone was poised to act now that they had heard Vin's signal. He could hear scuffling emanating from the town itself and guessed that the scouts were being dealt with. The rest of the town's people were awaiting their own signal to begin and Chris and Vin held their breath as they felt the vibration against the ground of hooves pounding against the dirt. Chris looked across the roof and saw Buck standing at the edge of the roof, looking in their direction and awaiting the signal. 

Chris took a deep breath, bracing himself because the timing for this had to be perfect. He could not see the Apache just yet but the cloud of dust that had suddenly risen in the night sky indicated that they were definitely on a fast approach. Through the black, he could see a dark wall of flesh sweeping towards Four Corners and knew that those watching within the town could also see. He hoped no one lost their heads in the heat of the moment. He supposed it was too late to worry about that now because things were about to move very fast from this point on. He watched the war party approaching the perimeter they had established around town and wondered how time seemed to slow when he waited them to reach it.  

"NOW BUCK!" Chris stood and shouted on top of his lungs when he saw the raiders about to cross the perimeter. "NOW!" 

Buck Wilmington immediately forced down the lever on the detonator that would ignite at least a hundred sticks of dynamite that were planted around the town in the defensive perimeter they had created to halve the number of raiders when the attack finally came. The explosions followed almost immediately after and the sound of war cries that were tearing through the air like banshees in the night was suddenly replaced by thunderous roar of exploding dynamite. The distant night became illuminated by the flash point of the detonations, sending dirt and bodies in the air as the ground heaved in protest at is terrible violation. 

Riders were thrown off their mounts, their bodies joining their steeds in broken agony. Amidst the pauses of the explosions, they could hear the screams of men and horses falling to the earth, they could hear the rain of dirt across the ground and the continuous thunder of hooves belonging to those that had broken the line of ammunition and were still coming. Still their numbers were curtailed severely from what they had been if bodies left on the ground. Buck saw the surviving riders approaching town and knew that they would be madder than hell at the loss of their comrades and prayed silently that Chris' plan would work. There was only one way to find out, he supposed and when he saw Chris standing up about to give the next signal to act, he knew that the time was at hand.

* * *

 

 

"GUNS!" Chris ordered. 

Across the roofline facing the bare terrain around Four Corners, a phalanx of rifle barrels appeared and took aim. Chris' plan of defense relied heavily upon keeping the number of Indians entering Four Corners to a minimum so that the townsfolk, most of which were unaccustomed to fighting would have an even chance of survival. Even in the dark, he could see the faces behind those barrels etched with fear and knew that for many of them, this was the first time they had faced a situation like this where their lives hung so precariously in the balance. 

"AIM!" He shouted as he saw the Indians entering rifle range. 

Next to him, Vin immediately pulled out his rifle, the one that had come into his possession when someone had hired Lucious Stutz to kill Mary Travis. The weapon had been an assassin's gun and Vin had admired the workmanship although the nature of what it was crafted for still unnerved the tracker somewhat, Chris suspected. However, as a marksmans weapon, there was none finer anywhere in the Territory and the odds they now faced required all the skill and precision that Vin could muster. Vin used the wooden edging of the rooftop as a stand for his weapon and took careful aim, immediately putting the enemy into his cross hairs. Chris was a good shot with a rifle himself though he had none of the talent of Vin Tanner and his own rifle lay on the ground next to the tracker. Chris saw the enemy closer into view until there was no more time to reflect and he shouted his final order, rolling the dice on what fate had in store for him. 

"FIRE!"

Flares of light move through the town like fire crackers being ignited. The fading eruption of dynamite had now been completely ecclipsed by the cackling cacophony of gunfire. Powerful burst of sound swept projectiles through the air and laid down a deadly barrage upon the enemy. Chris dropped to his knees and reached for his rifle, preparing to join his gunfire with those already assaulting the Apache raiders. He saw Apache braves being thrown off their horses when they met their fate at the end of a bullet. Those who fell were promptly tramped underfoot of horses that could not stop in time to avoid them. Screams and cries were heard as the deaths mounted and among those pained expressions was also an angry roar of defiance by the survivors who swore vengeance on the killer of their comrades. 

Vin Tanner grieved each time he pulled the trigger but had little choice but to do so. It was a question of survival that was before him. His ammunition was laid out within easy reach and he pulled the trigger at five seconds intervals which was all the time needed for him to shoot his target and move on. The Apache made their raids at night so that it would be difficult to see their numbers but Vin could tell the barrage of sniper was having its effects upon the oncoming braves. The Apaches had begun to return fire for they were carrying rifles supplied by Hannibal Julius but they did not have the range or the stability required to be as effective as the snipers perched on the roof line of Four Corners. However, despite their falling number, there were enough raiders passing beyond the range of the rifles for Apache to still take the day. 

Leaving their fallen behind, the Apache enemy soon entered town limits where their rifles were slung and their weapon of choice became an assortment of hand guns and. The minute the raiders had breached the town limits, Vin and Chris switched weapons and immediately descended from the rooftop. The townsfolk were ordered to remain above ground so that they were provided ample cover against the Indians who were more capable than they with close quarter combat. Chris and Vin, like the rest of the seven would continue the fight from the ground. The air was still charged from gunfire and hooves beating against the ground as the men lowered themselves into the Emporium once more. 

By the time they had emerged to the ground level, the raiders were well and truly in town. Chris and Vin looked through the glass display window to see the Apache riding through the main street Four Corners on horseback. A number of riders broke off from the main group and rode briskly towards the Emporium and the buildings located in the same block. Gunfire was erupting from the men stationed overhead but those who were on the ground with them were also fighting with the same vigor. The flare of gunfire appeared sporadically from darkened alleys and vantage points chosen by the defenders to launch their defensive. As the group of braves approached the Emporium, Vin caught sight of one of them lighting a torch and came immediately to the conclusion what they were attempting to do. 

"Aw hell...." Vin started to say as he saw the torch sail through the air, impacting against the large window and bringing down the glass with a shattering roar before landing on the floor near a bolt of fine lace. The flames ignited the crisp white material immediately, illuminating the inside of the store with amber hues. 

"We got to put it out!" Chris shouted as his eyes searched frantically for something to beat out the flames with. The Emporium was one of the largest buildings in town and if it were set alight, its proximity to its neighbor would ensure the rest of the structures in the fire would spread. Chris hurried to the section of the store where the blankets were kept and tossed one to Vin as he returned to the scene of the fire. Vin caught it with one hand and the two men began attacking the flames which had spread to the rest of the fabric on display. There was simply too much flammable material in the Emporium to allow any fire to run rife. The smoke from the flaming cloth filled the air with noxious smoke and their eyes burnt as they tried desperately to suffocate the flames beneath the blankets.  

Out of the corner of his eye, Chris saw something emerging through the window and swung around just in time to see an Apache raider about to shoot Vin in the back. Without thinking, Chris drew and fired, sending the brave sprawling backwards across the front walk of the building onto the floor. Vin turned around sharply and realised what his best friend had done. The tracker merely tipped his hat in gratitude before beating out the last of the flames that had turned the fabric section of the Pemberton Emporium into a charred mess. Unfortunately there was little time to appraise their handiwork because Chris' gunfire had alerted the other raiders to their presence and small handful of Apaches were converging upon them.

"I think we're in trouble." Chris whispered as he and Vin sought out cover, in this instance behind the large serving counter in the back of the store. 

"Been in tighter." Vin commented. 

"Really? When?" Chris asked as a barrage of gunfire came at the counter, splintering wood as bullet slammed through the wooden panels.

"You want me to name something?" Vin asked as he stuck his head over the edge enough to squeeze a number of shots at the enemy. He was certain his bullets killed at least one of the shooters.  

"Well you know me," Chris retorted, doing the same when Vin slunk behind the counter again. "Always being picky."  

Chris emptied the entire contents of his peacemaker into the enemy bombarding their refuge with ammunition. He aimed in quick succession and was deadly accurate. Vin was a sharpshooter but Chris was a quick draw and was able to make almost every bullet count. He measured his success by the screams of the men he killed cried out when his bullets met their target. Although taking a life could hardly be called success, he thought as he heard his gun click with the sound of an empty chamber. Suddenly something leapt out at him from the corner of the counter. The raider had kept low and made it across the floor during all the pandemonium. Chris had little or no space to avoid him and both men went down hard on the floor. 

"Chris!" Vin shouted but it was hard to help his friend when the space behind the counter was so narrow and shooting was not an option. If he stopped shooting at the others attempting to get through the window, they would get the drop on both he and Chris. The question was soon taken out of his hands when the shooting resumed and Vin was forced back under the counter. The gunfire seemed fiercer and Vin had this idea that their attackers had suddenly gained more assistance. Vin saw Chris grabbing the brave's gun as they wrestled and appeared to be capable of holding his own for the moment. It was just as well because if he stopped shooting to help the gunslinger, they would be overwhelmed with more than just the man Chris was fighting off. 

Chris wrapped his fist around the man's wrist and slammed it against the wall, forcing the gun in his grip to fall. The brave brought his down on Chris' skull, knocking the gun fighter's skull against the floor and disorientating him for a few seconds. Chris felt the stinging pain dissipate just long enough to hear Vin shout. "Chris! He's got a knife!"  

Chris blinked and saw the weapon come at him. He caught it in mid air and twisted the man's arm. The brave struggled hard but Chris was able to roll over him, the gunslinger’s fist wrapped firmly his opponent’s arm, who refused steadfastly to let go of the weapon he was holding even as Chris straddled him. There was a moment of clarity in the midst of all that straining when Chris felt something give and the brave uttered a sharp scream. The blade impacted against something hard, the hard stop vibrating up its length to tingle in Chris’ grip. It took a few seconds for Chris to realize that the obstruction was the floor. The long blade had speared through the Apache brave and kept going until it hit wood. Blood pooled beneath his body and Chris pulled away, breathing hard as he saw the widening spread of crimson. 

"You done with him?" Vin barked. The tracker was trying desperately to keep the group of Apache firing at them from outgunning him but was fast losing the battle. Each time he paused to reload was time they were allowed to make their advance into the building. He had already shot one or two of them who had been attempting to set the place ablaze once more and knew that he could not maintain this pace for long without his defenses being breached at some point. 

"Pretty much." Chris looked into the face of his enemy and felt saddened that the brave he had killed could not have been more than 18 years old. A boy, the gunslinger thought regretfully. 

"Well if you don’t mind," the tracker retorted, unable to give Chris a moment when the situation was so critical. "I could use a hand here."

Chris saw at least four Apache warriors beyond the bullet-ridden walls that held the shattered display window and knew that Vin had every reason to fear. Immediately Chris retrieved the gun that had gone flying when he and the young brave had jumped him. Lending his firepower to that of the tracker's, both men continued the ruthless barrage of ammunition until one by one, those who would have burned them alive in the store were now lying dead among the rubble. As the sound of immediate gunfire came to a close, Chris let out a sigh and stood up to take a cautious look to see if the coast was clear for the moment. Vin was busy reloading the mare's leg, ready to continue the fight that was still progressing beyond the walls of the emporium. If the gunfire and pandemonium they could hear in the near by vicinity was any indication, the fighting was still fierce. 

"You okay?" Chris asked as he let his gaze sweep across the room and winced at the destruction of life and property that lay before them.  

Vin stood up and dusted particles of splinted wood, plaster and glass from his jacket and nodded. "Yeah."  

Chris climbed over the counter and walked towards the broken window. Peering outside, he could see the Apache riding through town, carrying torches. Sporadic gunfire could be heard from above and on ground level as Four Corners maintained a united front to defend itself against the invaders. The Apache were on horseback and they were on foot. Bodies lay on the street and on the usually ordered boardwalks, some were Apache, some were not. Chris took a deep breath, aware that this night of fire and death was far from over. Grimly, he waited for Vin to reach his side before they continue forward. 

"Any idea how we're gonna do this?" Vin asked when he did just that. 

Chris stared into the depths of the night, watching friends fighting for their very lives at this precise moment and turned to Vin, the moonlight reflecting off his green eyes in the dark, making them appear almost feline. "Kill anything that tries to kill us first." 

Vin could only nod because it was sound advice that made this whole situation all the more tragic.  

* * *

JD Dunne heard something moving inside the Standish Tavern and knew that some of the Indians were starting fires to throw the town into further disarray. With both guns drawn, the young man stepped inside the familiar saloon when he and his friends so often shared a drink and heard no sounds of movement. However, if there was one thing that Buck had drilled into his head since meeting the man, it was the rule of going with his gut and at the moment, his gut told him he was not alone. JD was certain that there was noise that did not originate from the shooting that was occurring randomly throughout the town. He stepped through the batwing doors and looked around cautiously, seeing nothing out of the ordinary in the empty tables and unattended bar. When there was no one about, the bar seemed somewhat eerie and JD had to confess to disliking it intensely when it appeared this way. 

He took another step into the place and winced when the floorboards creaked underfoot, giving away his presence. Swallowing thickly, he continued nonetheless, deciding what would happen would happen and was willing to accept things on that basis. His ears listened for the slightest sound but no repeat of what he had heard to bring him into the saloon occurred as JD moved past the table normally occupied by the seven towards the bar where Inez so often held court. His gaze shifted upward, wondering if perhaps whomever it was had made the noise was hiding upstairs but dismissed the possibility because the distance would make it improbable. Besides, even if by some miracle he had heard it originating from the upper levels, it would have been next to indistinguishable above the sound of gunfire. 

No, whatever he heard was close. 

JD neared the edge of the bar and suddenly heard what sounded like a clink of glass. Both guns swung in the direction of the space between the wall and the counter. Beads of sweat started to run down his skin. The heat of the night and the fires burning in some buildings had covered his skin with soot and made it feel insufferable in his clothes. Growing impatient with waiting, he decided to take a more direct approach. He knew it could be no Indian behind the counter because Apache didn't hide but someone was definitely there and he really did not have the patience for it.  

"You come out there!" JD ordered. "Don't make me come and get you. I know someone's there."  

He waited for a reaction and the seconds stretched into a full minute with JD seriously considering repeating his message when suddenly he heard another clink of glass and the shuffling sound of a decision being made. He held his breath, uncertain what to expect as his prey rose from behind the counter. JD did not know what he expected but what stepped into view was certainly enough to give him pause. 

It was an Apache warrior no more than sixteen years of age. 

JD knew he was a warrior because he was painted with all the colors the other braves were but there was no doubt in the young man's mind that the boy before him was not at all like his older counterparts turning Four Corners inside out with violence. Both of them stared at each other for a moment, unaware of who was more shocked. JD could tell that the boy was terrified. He was clutching a gun in his hand and the tension in his knuckles seemed to indicate that he was too terrified of using it. JD remembered Vin telling them that an Apache youth was made a warrior at the age of fifteen but did not believe it until now. He remembered how terrified he had been at eighteen when he left home for the first time bound for the West, he could not imagine what this boy must be feeling. 

"You're just a kid." JD muttered and felt it ironic that most people saw him and thought the same thing.  

The youth did not answer him but his eyes wide watched JD. 

It would be so easy to pull the trigger right now, JD thought to himself. So easy to shoot down this boy who wore the face of his enemy and no one would blame him for it. However, when he had shot Annie Nechaus by mistake, JD learnt that there was a price to every death, no matter how justified one might feel. He did not need to kill this boy who was more afraid of him then JD was afraid of letting him go. No, he did need to do that at all and felt pleased that he had come to this conclusion on his own. Perhaps what everyone was telling him lately was true; he was growing and becoming the kind of man he always wanted to be. 

"Go on." JD replied, waving him away with and gesturing towards the door. "Get out here!"  

The boy stared at him not understanding.  

"I said GIT!" JD repeated himself and started to wave one of his guns at the boy.  

Almost as soon as he did it, he knew it was a mistake because the Apache youth already terrified beyond belief reacted to the movement of his short barrelled Lightning Colt violently, swinging the gun he had been holding in his hands at JD's direction. JD saw him readying to pull the trigger and acted on instinct, firing just as blindly as the enemy before him. The boy's bullet grazed his shoulder and sent him stumbling into a table. The Apache was not as fortunate with JD's offering as he crashed into the shelves behind him laden with glass bottles, bleeding from a bullet that tore easily through his skin, then his rib cage to lodge deeply in his heart. His eyes opened in shock and pain, almost as if he could not believe this was happening.

JD watched his fall, bringing down all the bottles on top of him. The young sherrif scrambled over the counter and landed next to him, his boots crushing glass underfoot. The scene that awaited him seared into his mind as he saw the boy cut to ribbons, dying.  

"Why did you do that!" JD shouted at the boy who stared back at him with rapidly unseeing eyes, choking on the shards of glass lodged in his neck. "I wasn't gonna hurt ya!" He cried out in anguish. 

The boy did not answer and this time it was because he simply could not. Tears rolled from the corner of his eyes and became lost in blood. His lips quivered as he attempted to form words but could not quite manage it. He shuddered once more as his eyes fixed on JD and then saw nothing more when his dwindling life slipped away completely. JD turned away, unable to look any more although he doubted that he would ever sleep without seeing that terrified face in his dreams. In some ways, it was even worse than accidentally killing Annie. With Annie, he had not known what he had done until it was over but this occasion would follow him until he died with every detail enacted with clarity. He blinked, feeling his own tears threatening to come, trying to make himself feel better by justifying the death but he could not. He just could not.  

Suddenly the bat wing doors swung open and an Indian brave burst through it, drawing his weapon upon catching sight of JD. This was no boy frightened of being trust into his first real battle but a man, seasoned and every much the warrior. His eyes met JD and instinctively, the young sherrif knew that the brave would kill him with no hesitation or doubt. Both barrels his lighting colt flew at the man just as he raised a rifle to fire. JD did not know who pulled the trigger first because he leapt out of the way the minute he heard the tremendous explosion of sound as both guns sang in unison. The projectile from the bullet smash into a bottle behind him, shattering it with a resounding crash and sending shards in all direction. JD dropped to the floor as he saw the bullets coming from his gun being just a fraction more accurate. The brave took both bullets in the upper torso and fell backwards through the door. He did not pass through them but collapsed on the floor nearby.   
For a second JD did not move, just as the body of the man he had killed did move. He saw the blood pooling and the slackened grip around the weapon that could have taken his life and understood then and there that he done what he had to survive, just as it had been when he shot that poor foolish boy. He had been trying to survive. It was not much comfort after what had happened but JD realised than he was not meant to feel better about death, it was meant to linger in the heart if he was to learn anything. 

After seeing that boy, JD had learned a great deal. 

* * *

Josiah could not tell whether or not they were winning but it appeared that the attack was nowhere the slaughter it was meant to be. He lost sight of the others and wondered how they were faring. Despite himself, the preacher felt a little vulnerable without the others. There was something about being part of the seven during a gunfight that was strangely comforting. He moved through the boardwalk, staying close to the shadows as he saw Virgil Watson from the room of his store, playing sniper. The hardware store owner was doing his level best to keep any of the raiders from destroying his store but there were too many of them attempting to get past the defense he had been laying down in the form of rifle fire. Josiah caught sight of an Apache warrior preparing to make another torch, with every intention of flinging it into the hardware store.  
Josiah searched the immediate vicinity for a safe place to provide Virgil with assistance and located a large stack of crates that could probably withstand a good number of bullets. He saw the brave he had seen earlier lighting the torch he had been making, flames immediately catching alight the fabric he had used as fuel. Making sure he remained anonymous until he reached safety, Josiah kept his head low and dashed across the space between the boardwalk and the crates. He skid behind the narrow enclosure just as the raider was about to fling his burning weapon into the store and quickly fired. His bullet struck the centre of the man's palm, forcing a shout of pain but also dropping the torch to the ground in the process.

 Alerted by a new threat, the Indians attacking the hardware store and its owner immediately turned towards Josiah and concentrated their fire on the wooden boxes that offered them protection. Josiah huddled for a few minutes as the wood around him splintered from the numerous bullets tearing through it. He had to wait until they had paused to reload before he could return any fire. Josiah fired his Remington until the chamber was exhausted; killing two of the men that were trying to kill him before their companions resumed shooting with equal vigor. Once again Josiah was forced to retreat until suddenly he noticed the number of shooters in his direction began to gradually decrease until he was able to peer over the edge of the crates to defend himself. Glancing upwards, he saw that this was due to the fact that Virgil Watson had come to his rescue as Josiah had done for the man himself a short time ago. 

It was a rather nice change actually.

* * *

 

The fighting was drawing to a close. With the help of the townspeople and Chris’ strategy of cutting down enemy numbers before they actually reached Four Corners, the battle was tipping in favor of the small community. It was dawning on some of the raiders that they had spent too much time in Four Corners and their numbers were dwindling far more progressively then that of their enemy. As the night continued towards daylight, some were beginning to break off their hostilities in favor of making a strategic retreat. It was during this period that Ezra Standish sought out Chris Larabee. He had plans that required him elsewhere at this time and if he wanted to fulfil his unspoken agenda, he would have to leave now. The days were he would have simply left without giving anyone any indication of his plans were behind him and before he scattered to the Four Winds, he would at least tell Chris Larabee of his intent to depart. 

Chris was in the midst of discussions with Yosemite and Vin when Ezra found him. Four Corners looked like it had been trapped in the middle of a war zone. The damage to the town however, though significant was not unrepairabe and Ezra knew that Chris had to be feeling somewhat pleased about that, though one could not tell from the grim expression on the man’s face. His eyes rose to meet Ezra’s as soon as the gambler approached. 

"Mr Larabee I need a word with you." Ezra replied.

Chris nodded and stepped away, leaving Vin and Yosemite to continue without him before he took a moment alone with Ezra. "What is it?" Chris asked, hoping it was not some new calamity so soon after they had dealt with the last one. Buck and Nathan were taking of any stragglers still left in town and Josiah and JD had just gone to help. Chris hoped Ezra had not come from there bringing ill news.

"I am going." Ezra said simply since there was no other way to tell him. 

"Going?" Chris asked with a hint of demand. "Where?" 

Ezra merely stared back at him and Chris immediately knew. 

"Julius?" The gunslinger hissed. "You know where he is?" 

Ezra nodded. "I managed to convince Miss Belladonna that it would be in her best interest to tell me where he was."

Chris saw the intent in Ezra’s eyes and knew what the man was going to do when he found Julius. Chris could not blame him for wanting his vengeance and Julius was a fanatic that had to be stopped. If the reasons for his end was one man’s vengeance, Chris could live with that but the truth was, Julius was better a matyr than he was a living demigod to those who followed him. The crux of his organisation rested on the man’s personality, he alone kept the chaff together. Without him, they would scatter to the winds and the threat of the Citadel would be forgotten. Chris did not condone murder but vengeance was entirely different thing all together and what Julius had done certainly warranted it.  

"Vin," Chris did not turn away from Ezra as he called out to the tracker.  

"Yeah?" Vin responded automatically. 

"I need to take a ride with Ezra, you think you can handle things on your own for a while?"  

"Don’t see why not," Vin shrugged. "Looks like we got them on the run. What’s up?" 

"Just a little private business we got to take care of.." Chris answered elusively much to Ezra’s relief.  

"Sure." Vin retorted. "I reckon we’d be fine." 

"Shall we?" He asked Ezra, with a tone that meant his accompanying the gambler was not up for discussion or debate for that matter. The only way Ezra was leaving Four Corners was with Chris at his side. Over the years, he had become accustomed to an Ezra who was more concerned with profit rather than personal vendettas. Granted this side of him was more than justified for making its appearance, however, Chris was uncertain how Ezra would behave when seeking retribution. What he had done to Diana was proof enough that he was acting very much against his nature and if that were the case, Chris could not depend on Ezra to proceed with his usual deliberation or caution.  

At the moment, Ezra Standish was one of hell of a wild card and Chris could not afford to risk letting him play alone. 

* * *

Something had gone wrong with the plan. 

Hannibal Julius sat in his retreat located at the foot of the Seminole Mountains pondering this question and trying to understand from where this substantial flaw might have had its origins. Although Kitson said little, Julius could see his newest protégé had deepening concerns at the continued absence of Diana Belladonna. She should have been back last night and agents sent on his behalf to inquire after had no evidence of where she might be at this moment. Although logically, it would be sensible to delay if their plans were compromised but Julius would hear nothing of it. This was his time, his first true step to establishing his new Empire; he would not turn back now. 

"We should really thing about delaying." Kitson responded as the time drew terribly close for the Citadel’s contingent of men to ride out and provide aid to the large body of Indians that were about to sweep across the Territory in uprising. "There have been rumors that the army has been deploying its forces and new troop movements." 

"They are merely consolidating their hold on the area," Julius dismissed his lieutenant’s concern with a wave of his hand. "I would not worry about it. My sources in the military made no mention of anything out of the ordinary and reported it as such. It is not uncommon to do reorganization with the unhappy sentiment emanating from the Indian populace of late. In fact, I would be more suspicious if they did nothing." 

"I suppose," Kitson said dubiously. "What about Diana?" His voice almost held a hint of challenge. 

"That is a different matter but a woman on her own may fall into unfortunate circumstances unrelated to our present scheme. You have spoken to the Apache?" 

"Yes," Kitson nodded. "They said she left directly after delivering your instructions." 

"And they had no difficulty with those instructions?" Julius stared at him. 

"None," Kitson responded, realizing then he was arguing for a lost cause. Despite his devotion to his master, he felt a little unsettled by Julius' disregard for the life of one of his own. Since coming into the service of the Citadel and Hannibal Julius, Beauregard Kitson believed in what Julius was doing even if he was a little eccentric at times, the most notable being Julius' predilection for males. If given a choice, Kitson would have rather killed Ezra Standish then see what had happened to him at Julius hands. There was some semblance of morality in him that still felt that there were lines that should not be crossed, rape of a man or a woman for that matter, was one of those. Still he fought for the reestablishment of the south he loved and so that forced him to endure the man's habits. 

Julius stared at Kitson from the wing chair in the parlor of the homestead he had occupied for some time now. The previous inhabitants were left in unmarked graves at the rear of the backyard, having shuffled off the mortal coil so that Julius could begin his tenancy. Kitson was a good man but he was sentimental and Julius made note to keep closer eye on him following their present. Glancing at the pocket watch in his expensive suit, he took note of the time and raised his gaze to Kitson's once more. 

"It is time you were going Mr Kitson." Julius reminded him. "Its time." 

"Are you joining us?" Kitson inquired, guessing that Julius probably would not. The man did not feel it necessary to be actively involved in the actual killing his grandiose plans seemed to require.  

"I will arrive at the scene soon enough," Julius said tautly, not at all liking the tone of the question. "Go." 

Kitson nodded and turned on his heels. Julius settled into his chair when he was alone, talking a long deep sip from the sifter of cognac that had been resting on the table beside him. He drank the cognac thinking pleasant thoughts of the conflagration that Four Corners must be enduring at this time while hearing in the distance, the voices of men mounting horses in preparation to leave. He thought about Ezra Standish and an involuntary smile came to his lips at what the man must have endured since their encounter. Pity he was so adverse to the idea of bedding a man, Julius thought as he remembered how satisfying taking Ezra had been. Perhaps Julius should have kept him just a little longer to 'educate' him. Doesn't matter now, he supposed with a sigh if Ezra was not already dead, his beloved town and his woman would have met an incendiary end for certain.

The floor trembled for a moment at the pounding of hooves as Kitson led the men away to join forces with the Indians who would be sweeping across the Territory. He listened for a little longer, hearing those sounds diminish into the night like a fading breath of wind that had swept across his cheek. He finished to contents of the sifter and then refilled the glass receptacle with more amber fluid, idly wondering how long it would take before he would ride into Four Corners after the destruction was more or less complete and surveyed the damage. He did so hope that the Apache had taken survivors. If they could not take Ezra alive, he would be just as satisfied with Larabee.  

He wondered briefly how Ezra would have fared explaining the truth to Larabee. He strongly suspected that the gambler would have kept his ordeal a secret. These frontier men had very little tolerance for that kind of inclinations. He was certain that any revelation made by Ezra would undoubtedly scar his relationship with his friends permanently which made Julius enjoyment of the experience all the more sweeter. Julius continued to work steadfastly through the decanter of cognac, his thoughts swirling around Ezra Standish, his god hood and the patterns of amber in his glass. Time slipped away from him without his even realizing it. It did not matter that it did anyway, Gods had no need to mark the passage of time. 

Suddenly the doorknob twisted and Julius looked up just in time to see it swing open. 

His first impulse was to go for a gun but there was hardly time for that as the audible click of a gun snatched his attention away from that futile attempt. Ezra Standish strode into room, his gun drawn and eyes basking in the sight of Julius like a starving lion that had caught its first scent of a dying zebra. The gambler moved into the room like a shadow beam of light, casting darkness as he slipped deeper into the room. Behind him, Chris Larabee who was usually the most overpowering presence in any room could not compete with the radiating darkness of the gambler that threatened to draw all light towards him.

"Hello Julius." Ezra said in a voice not quite his own. He had no idea how he was going to be seeing Julius again but now as he cast his gaze upon the man who had given nightmares the likes of which he had never known in his life, all he felt was this numbness and detachment. It was as if the soul had drained away from him completely. 

"Ezra," Julius responded aloofly, not about to show either man that he was concerned at their appearance. "What a pleasant surprise. Come back for more?" 

Ezra flinched just enough for Julius to know that his remark had struck a nerve and the man continued, reveling in the power he still had over the gambler. "And you've brought a friend. Perhaps you would like us both to have turns." 

"Shut up." Chris found himself saying, unable to imagine what kind of evil could lurk in that vapid face so full of arrogance but none of the intellect truly needed to be the man he wanted.  Unfortunately in Julius' case, he was about to get one hell of a reality check.

"It is perfectly alright Mr Larabee," Ezra replied, his eyes never leaving Julius'. "He is merely afraid. At this moment, he has deduced that keeping us talking will give him the time to come up with some form of plan or at the very least, give his men time to come to his aid." 

"I reckon you're right," Chris nodded with a little smile before meeting Julius' gaze. "Too bad they're all dead. You didn't think anyone would find you so there were that many men left to protect you. We took care of them easy enough. Most of them died without making a sound." 

"I see that you have me cornered." Julius shrugged and extended his hand outwards to Ezra. "You've won Ezra. My congratulations. I will cooperate fully while you savor victory at my capture. I don't suppose you'd care to reveal how you came by the location of my hiding place?" 

Chris glanced at Ezra, showing the gambler that it was his decision to reveal that information. Ezra's guns were still drawn but he had paused by a knife that was nestled under a display case in the parlor. For a few seconds, he did not respond as he studied the large bowie knife gleaming under the dull light of the room. "Diana Belladonna." Ezra said offhandedly. "I found her when she was returning from her rendezvous with the Apache. Let us just say that I convinced her to impart the information by brutal force. Once she was in a little pain, she was rather helpful."

"And what else did she tell you?" Julius said tautly, realizing that Diana was privy a great deal more than he could afford to have revealed.

"Enough. When your men get to those towns they intend on raiding with the Indians, the army will be waiting for them. We knew about that well before Diana gave it to us. She just helped us save Four Corners which though a little worse for wear is just fine." Chris revealed with a predatory sneer. 

"So now you've come to arrest me is that it?" Julius asked, oblivious to the fact that Ezra had removed the knife from its case. 

"No." Ezra answered before Chris could. "Mr Larabee," he turned to the gunslinger as he fingered the long blade in his hand. "Perhaps you should canvass the area, ensure that we have not left anyone behind." 

Chris met Ezra's gaze and nodded in silent understanding. He had agreed to his and he would stand by his promise, no matter how distasteful Ezra's actions was going to be. He supposed that after what Julius had done to him, it was only fair that the gambler demanded retribution, even a bloody one. "I'll leave you to it." 

"What's going on here?" Julius started to feel tendrils of fear crawling up his back as Chris Larabee started to retreat out of the room. He turned to Ezra as the door closed behind the gunslinger to see Ezra smiling at him with an expression on his face that was full of sinister malevolence. "You do not frighten me." Julius retorted. "You're not a killer." 

Ezra's response was to promptly blow away his kneecap. 

Julius screamed loudly as he dropped to the floor clutching the shattered knee that was agonizing in the pain it caused throughout his body. Once he was down and writhing in pain, appearing quite incapacitated, Ezra took a step closer.

"You will never see the inside of a courtroom Julius." Ezra remarked, still holding the gun in his hand and the knife in the other. "You took away everything inside of me I could call a man and destroyed it. You turned me into a monster and made me hurt the people who mean everything to me, even more than my so called shame. If I spend an eternity of time in hell for this, I am prepared for that. Unfortunately, since I cannot injure you in the way you did me, I have been forced to improvise Your vengeance against me was against my manhood, so I will be petty and play tit for that, at least in the physical sense." 

Julius' eyes widened as he saw the gleam of the knife in Ezra's hand.  

"NO!" He screamed in terror as he tried desperately to crawl away.  

Ezra's hand lashed out, catching his uninjured leg by the foot and kept him from getting away. "Do not worry Julius," Ezra's eyes gleamed in sinister fire. "And do tell me if your balls taste as sweet as my ass, that is if you can still talk with your mouth full."

* * *

Chris Larabee lit a cheroot as the first screams shattered the night deciding that the wild cards that get played the least were often the most dangerous.  

Until this moment, he had never realised how much. 

 

 


	10. That Which Does not Kill

 

Although the Plain Indians Wars had thought to be mostly ended by 1878, the fresh infusion of hostility by the Indians inspired and aided by the Citadel caused a resurgence that would have impact in the days following the outbreak of violence in the Territory. The army fully prepared for the attack thanks to the intelligence received by General Larabee through his son, kept the reason for their troop movements a secret known only at the highest level, to ensure the Citadel were caught totally unawares. The raids across the Territory had been fierce with casualties on both sides but the Indians did not destroy any of the major towns, although a few outposts had been burnt to the ground. Fortunately, most of these had been warned of the violence in time and had departed before the attack cost them their lives.

Still, there was much damage done throughout the Territory, even if the destruction was nowhere as bad as he anticipated. Lives had nonetheless been lost both Indian and white man. The Citadel had withdrawn when they had seen the army's presence in the towns, leaving their surrogates to face the situation alone even though they had been the ones to instigate the uprising in the first place. The incident inspired the anti-Indian sentiments that Vin Tanner and Kojay had feared throughout the Territory and very soon, the army and the politicians in Washington were drawing up laws to enforce an even more ruthless policy against the Red Man. Even though the Citadel had failed to maintain the chaos that would allow Hannibal Julius to sweep into the Territory, a conquering hero, it still felt as if they had succeeded on some level.

Chris Larabee and Ezra Standish rode all the way to Four Corners without saying a word. 

There was really nothing Chris could say and nothing that Ezra wanted to talk about. The blood staining his clothes spoke in greater volume than any words the gambler might have uttered in defense of his actions. However, in complete support of what he had done, Chris did not ask him to justify himself. Julius had done great harm to Ezra, more than Chris Larabee would ever understand but could very well empathize. When Laurel Chase had taken the gunslinger and poisoned him into becoming one of her killers, he had sworn to kill her. That had not changed, no matter how much time had passed. The woman had harmed Mary and she had threatened his children. If he were to see her again as Ezra had found himself face to face with Julius; Chris would have given as little thought to killing Laurel as Ezra had done so ruthlessly to Julius. 

Chris had heard the screams and even though he did not see what grisly conclusion Julius had reached, his imagination was quite vivid indeed. There was an instant when Chris thought of entering the room., of making Ezra end Julius' life without suffering. Then he imagined what it would be like if someone had taken him, had used his body as a receptacle of vile seed and gloated triumphantly after shattering every semblance of dignity a man had. When he imagined the horror of it, a splinter in comparison to the reality that Ezra must be living with, Chris found himself holding back and allowing the gambler to do his worse because in all honesty; Julius had it coming. 

When Ezra emerged into the night and saw him waiting, there was no remorse on his face at what he had done. Just that damned indifference expression that seemed more impassive of late. It was stronger than granite, darker than obsidian. He had merely returned Chris' gaze as they faced each other with the light of a blood moon casting its illumination on them, soaking them both in the stain of death. Chris did not mind. He and Death were on intimate terms now and it appeared that Ezra was becoming a member of that elite fellowship.  

He had stared at Ezra and asked simply; "are you done?"  

The gambler had taken in the question like a deep breath and responded a second later with a stony expression. "Yes, I believe I am." 

"We best get on back." Chris replied, requiring nothing else from the gambler in the way of explanation.  

"Yes," Ezra nodded slowly and then Chris saw something that gave him hope that perhaps the dark murdering persona that had castrated Hannibal Julius would not hold Ezra's soul forever. Perhaps what it took to erase one act of violence was simply another. Chris did not know if the moralists would find that a feasible argument but Ezra had needed closure in this and killing Julius had done that because with that slight nod was also a glimmer of the friend he knew and cared for.

The friend who nodded and added in that smooth southern drawl so indicative of Ezra Standish; "its time to go home."

* * *

It was almost a day before the convoy that had set out for the railway encampment returned to Four Corners. JD, eager to see Casey had ridden out when the collection of wagons and carriages were still an hour from town. After the encounter with the young Apache boy in the Standish Tavern, JD had a sudden need to see the lovely young woman who had the power to salve his ills by the light of her smile. He knew that he had fallen head over heels in love with Casey the first time he had saw that glorious smile so full of innocence and wonder and knew that even if they were old and gray, he would always look at her and see that same smile. He rode through the convoy seeking Nettie's wagon and almost became concerned when he did not spot it immediately. He was certain that Nettie would be at the head of the wagon train in her eagerness to get back to her spread. 

However, Nettie was taking her horses and wagon at a decidedly slow pace as he approached and noticed that Alex's horse Phoebe was tethered to the back of the wagon. At first, he wondered if there was something wrong and then told himself that they were probably travelling together and that his anxiety was unjustified. Still, he could not blame himself for his worry because after the death he had seen since they had left Four Corners, he could be forgiven for displaying just a little apprehension at the fates of his loved ones. He saw Nettie sitting at the head of the wagon with Alex by her side and wondered where Casey was. When they caught sight of him, their expression seemed trouble and JD knew instinctively that something was wrong. 

"What's going on?" He asked gingerly after coming to a stop next to the temporarily halted wagon. "Where's Casey?" 

"Casey's fine," Nettie responded automatically. "She's just in the back." 

"Is she alright?" He questioned again, looking at Alex because the doctor seemed unable to meet his gaze for a few seconds. 

"She had an appendicitis attack." Alex quickly answered, thinking of a plausible excuse she could give JD as soon as they had seen him riding up to the carriage.  

"Is that serious?" JD demanded, feeling his heart skip a beat at hearing the news. 

"It could have been," Alex answered coolly. "All that bouncing around in the wagon did not help much either. It came on just after you boys left us for Four Corners."  

"Is she alright now?" He asked, somewhat relieved the situation had not become critical.  

"Yes," the doctor nodded. "I had to do an appendectomy which has left her a little tender but after a few days of best rest, Casey should be fine." 

"Can I see her?" JD inquired, gripped by this need to see Casey for himself.  

Alex glanced in Nettie's direction to indicate to JD that she was the wrong person to be asking about this. Even though Casey was his fiancé now, she had been Nettie's niece first and the old lady was still as protective as ever when it came to her welfare. However, even Nettie knew that JD and Casey's relationship was a case of young love at its most passionate and nothing she did or say would ever keep them apart. It was futile to even try.  

"Go on," Nettie said with a slight shift of her eyes towards the canvas covering of the wagon. "Just don't tire her out." The old lady warned as JD nudged his horse towards the rear of the wagon. Once he had rounded the corner and the floorboards of the wagon creaked with the extra weight of JD climbing into it, Nettie turned to Alex and said in a soft voice. "You know she had her appendix out when she was 13."  

"It's the best I could do at a moment's notice," Alex responded just as quietly. Besides, it was not as if appendicitis had not been used to cover up other ailments. In Europe, she had heard of doctors who performed abortions under the guise of appendicitis attacks. Young women would be discreetly entered into private sanitariums where the attending physician would perform the procedure without anyone being the wiser. For this present, the lie would serve her just as well. Although neither JD nor Nettie would ever know the real truth behind Casey's pregnancy, they knew enough to be able to offer the girl understanding and support.  

Casey would need that in the days to come.  

As for Alex, she had spent much of the time following Casey's miscarriage thinking about the events that led up to the tragedy. She had been spared performing the termination and she was glad of that fact. No matter how justified she believed she was in performing this procedure for the best interest of her patient, Alex could not deny being grateful she was saved from carrying it out. Despite herself, she could never really feel comfortable about the issue of abortion. The procedure should always be a solution of last resort, not the answer to cure the ills of irresponsible behavior but to rescue someone who found themselves in a situation with which they could not cope.  

She thought of Casey forced into a situation she could not cope, to ponder an agonizing question and finally deciding on a course of action that was no less painful than the one she sought to escape. However fate had stepped in and Casey had lost the unwanted pregnancy anyway, having miscarried during their trip to the railway encampment. It was by no means unusual for pregnancies to go awry in such an early stage and with Casey being under the amount of stress she had been, Alex thought it was not exactly surprising that things had turned out the way it did. Still the emotional toll was significant on Casey's psyche and Alex had more than once since it happen told her that the miscarriage was not a sign from God that she did not deserve her baby but rather an indication that it was simply not meant to be. Casey was able to accept that on some level even though Alex knew that this would be with the girl for a long time. 

* * *

JD slipped into the wagon and saw Casey curled up underneath her blanket, her face was pale and she was not quite asleep. He saw her eyes were red rimmed as if she were crying and he wondered if she was still in pain for her to be weeping over an appendicitis. Casey's eyes widened as soon as she saw him and she tried to sit up but it was not lost on him that her face illuminated with pleasure at seeing him.

"Oh JD!" She exclaimed and wrapped her arms around him when he was near enough to touch.  

For a few seconds, JD held her in his embrace, mystified by her emotional outburst at seeing him. Had she worried that he might not survive the attack on Four Corners by the Indians? That would certainly warrant her happiness at seeing him, although she could have thought she was dying and be equally pleased that she had survived to see him again. Whatever the reason, JD decided not to ponder it too deeply and instead continued holding her because that was what she needed.

"Its okay Casey," he cooed in her hair, loving her scent. The woods, fresh air and wide, open spaces was the smell of Casey and JD relished it. He could sit there and breathe her in forever. "I'm fine. Not a scratch on me." 

"I know," she whimpered softly, keeping secret the real reason for her happiness to see him. She could not tell him no matter how much her conscience told her that it was wrong to hide it. Casey felt too raw inside to bear risking the look in his eyes if he knew. "I was just worried about you, that's all." 

"Well I'm fine," JD grinned pulling away from her so that they could look at each other. "I'm fine and so is everyone else. We had em running in a few hours." Of course JD felt nowhere that enthused because he was still filled with inner pain over the young brave he was forced to kill. He accepted that in a battle such a thing sometimes had to be but it was nonetheless hard. However, he would not show that sorrow to Casey, not when she was filled with enough worries about him.

"Thank goodness," Casey lay back on her bedding, her eyes glistening with tears still but the smile on her face warmed his heart. "I didn't want to lose you."

Casey had been gripped by this terrible feeling since being told of the miscarriage that she was being punished for considering an abortion. Even though Alex had told her repeatedly that it was natural for pregnancies to terminate early in the term and that there was no reason she could not fall pregnant again. Still Casey could not shake the feeling that God was making her pay for her actions and that his vengeance would not be just the loss of her baby but also to take JD away from her. She had spent the whole time following her miscarriage thinking about that, plagued by nightmares in her sleep that some terrible news was awaiting her in Four Corners about JD's fate.

"You ain't gonna lose me Casey," JD grinned, taking her small hand in his before entwining their fingers together in a deeply intimate gesture of love. "I love you, nothing can happen that would ever change that. I promise you."

Casey blinked and felt warm tears rolled down her face as she heard those words and tightened her grip on his hand with enough pressure to let him know how much his words means to her. However, it also reaffirmed her decision that he was never to know about Blackwood's child who for a time had occupied her body. Whatever happened after this day, she would live with it and perhaps convince herself that her miscarriage was indeed a simple biological function gone askew and not something with deeper meaning to incite more guilt than she felt already.  

Aunt Nettie always said that the things that didn't kill you made you stronger. Well hopefully in time, this would make her very strong.

Perhaps then she would tell JD.

* * *

"Do you think she'll tell him?" Alex found herself asking Nettie after JD had left them. 

Nettie pondered the question for a second before answering. "There's no need to." 

"You don't think so?" Alex asked adhering to the wisdom of the older woman.  

"No," Nettie replied firmly with a wisdom that came from experience. "It ain't nothing he needs to know. Child wasn't his and it would only cause them both harm if he did. Casey needs to put this whole thing behind and get on with living. JD knowing would remind her of that." 

"I suppose so." Alex had to agree with the old woman's reasoning. 

"Besides," Nettie shrugged. "It ain't none of his beeswax anyway, this is woman's business."

And she was right, Alex thought as they continued riding towards Four Corners, with JD's horse tethered to the back with the rest of the convoy because that was exactly what this was; women's business.

* * *

 

"Where do you think she got to?" Nathan Jackson asked Ezra Standish as they walked towards the Standish Tavern nearly two days after the attack by the Apache raiders. 

"I have no idea," Ezra said tautly, not at all happy to learn that somehow during their battle with the Indians, Diana Belladonna had escaped her jail cell and was at this moment at large, roaming the countryside. "However, creatures like the lovely Miss Belladonna have great difficulty remaining anonymous for long. I have no doubt that she will surface soon enough."  

Ezra was carrying a toolbox he had no intention of using, after all, hands as delicate as his own did not perform menial labor unless one could help it. No, he was carrying it for Nathan who in his own hands was ferrying a pane of glass to repair a window that had been broken at the Standish Tavern during all the fighting. Despite the danger that could have returned the town back to the dusty desert from which it was spawned, Four Corners had managed to escape complete destruction even though there was enough damage wrought to ensure everyone was busy for a few days, himself included. The Standish Tavern as his responsibility and part of the healing process he had set for himself in the wake of the last week's events was ensuring that nothing in his life was neglected.  

His dear mother used to say on more times then he cared to remember, that which did not kill you ultimately served to make you stronger, well Ezra intended on being very strong and part of maintaining that strength was to take back his life. Julius had tried to steal it from him and Ezra had made the man wish in the very last hour of his life what a terrible mistake that had been but he would have won nothing against Julius, if he did not believe it himself. What Julius did to him was going to stay with him for a very long time, Ezra could still feel its poison inside him and he would not be able to stand his reflection for just as long. It was not simply because he had been violated in the worst way imaginable for any person, man or woman but because that violence had turned him into something he never wanted to see again. It was a sobering thing to know that inside the deepest recesses of one's soul could lurk a monster to rival the one he had murdered. However, he would not make the mist ake of denying its existence. Ignorance was usually what gave such creatures the power to escape its confinement in the dark. 

"She'll probably run back to the Citadel." Nathan said bitterly, feeling just as much dislike for the woman because she had served Ezra to Julius like a burnt offering.

 "Probably," Ezra returned with a cold smile. "However the Citadel is not what it used to be now that Julius is gone." 

A delicious feeling of satisfaction overcame him when he thought of what grisly homecoming waited the remains of Julius men after they had been properly trounced by the stiff resistance offered by the army and the townsfolk whom they helped conspire to murder. The great Caesar castrated and suffocated by one of his whores. There was not much about Julius that did not engender rage inside Ezra Standish but that at least felt good to know. Chris Larabee had said nothing about his actions and treated the entire incident as if it had never happened. He asked no questions once they rode away from Julius' hideout and seemed almost as comfortable with Ezra's revenge as Ezra himself.

Nathan did not make comment on that even though the seven knew, even if they did not understand why that Ezra had killed Julius. The others suspected there was something but could not be certain and with neither Chris, Josiah or himself willing to elaborate, they left it at that and decided that some things were better not knowing. If only they knew how right they were about that, Nathan thought to himself.  

"Kitson didn't show up though." Nathan declared thinking it prudent to change the subject.  

"They are still identifying bodies," Ezra pointed out. "It will be some time before we know for certain whether or not he survived the melee."

"Ezra," Nathan said as they were nearing the tavern. "I'm sorry I told Chris."  

Ezra paused a moment and looked up at the healer. "I was angry at you for doing that." Ezra responded, making no effort to lie about his feelings on this matter. "However, considering my behavior, I suppose I did not give you very much choice. Mr Larabee would have shaken it out of one of us eventually." 

"I thought if you knew that we didn't think you deserved what happened to you, maybe it would be better for you to handle." Nathan offered awkwardly, wishing he had Ezra's eloquence to make his intentions clearer. 

"You wounded me Nathan," Ezra met his gaze. "You wounded me but you also saved me. You are absolutely correct, I needed to know I had friends. Mr Larabee....Chris has shown me uncommon understanding which is not an easy thing for him. I am not so ignorant in my present state of emotional distress to know that. You hurt me but you did it for the very best of reasons and I cannot fault you for that. You have helped me begin the process of healing Nathan and I will always be grateful."

It was not often but Nathan felt somewhat at a loss for words as the two men as different any men could be, stared at each other and knew with certainty that they were friends without having to express it because its power radiated between them. However such moments had a short life and they both looked away, embarrassed by the show of emotion even though another part of them were glad that their bond was felt and strengthened by the display.

"Ezra." Julia Pemberton emerged from Virgil Watson's store with Josiah following her closely with several tins of paint. The whole of Four Corners seemed to be engaged in the activity of repairs and reconstruction in the wake of the Indian attack and the Pemberton Emporium was certainly one of these. According to Chris, the entire store had almost burnt down if not for his and Vin's efforts to extinguish the flames set by the raiders.

"Good morning my dear." Ezra gave the petite redhead an affectionate smile as she came up to him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He returned the favor by kissing her gently on the knuckle of her gloved hand. It was an innocent enough gesture but conveyed much about how they felt for one another to those present. They had not seen each other today and Ezra had to admit that seeing her this morning seemed to add more balance to his still off kilter life. In that one meeting of their eyes, so much was said that made a verbal declaration unnecessary and Ezra knew that he still wanted very much to spend his life with her even though he was not ready to marry Julia just yet. Her offer had been enough to prove that she would stay by his side, no matter how difficult the days ahead were.

Aware that they were in too public a place to say anything more intimate, Ezra shifted his gaze past her to the direction of Josiah Sanchez. The preacher was wearing a little smile on his face as if he too approved that things between the gambler and his lady were on the mend. "I see you've drafted Mr Sanchez into this tedious bit of maintenance."

"I see you've conned Nathan into doing yours." Josiah retorted, speaking in that same adversarial manner that indicated that they were still friends and no matter what had happened in the last week with Julius, that would not change. 

"A gentlemen does not stoop to menial labor," Ezra grinned, feeling decidedly good about himself today. He knew that he would have good days as well as bad ones in the weeks to come, so he was relishing the good while it lasted. "I am certain Mr Jackson's expertise as a healer will undoubtedly make him more qualified than I to conduct repairs on the Standish Tavern." 

"You're a lost cause," Julia chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Well come along Josiah, we've got lots to do." 

"We?" Josiah rumbled as he resumed walking. 

"We." Julia winked at Ezra as she sauntered by him. "I did pick the paint, now its your turn to do the painting. A perfectly equitable arrangement."

"You two deserve each other." Josiah gave Ezra a look as he walked past. 

"Yes," Ezra grinned with a smile he felt all the way down to his toes as he looked upon the retreating figure of the woman who was going to be his wife. "We certainly do." 

 

**THE END**

 


End file.
